Ratchet and Clank Future: Diplomacy
by Paul G
Summary: The Leonid Stories continue as Big Al is about ready to open up the newest branch of his roboshop franchise on New Fastoon in Leonid. Many of Ratchet's friends will be there for the grand opening, along with a few other VIPs as well.
1. Disclaimer

**Disclaimers:**

Welcome to my fourth major (multi chapter) fanfic. If you have been following the series thus far, grab yourself a cold beverage from the chiller, sit back, relax, and refresh your memory about the ground rules...

a) Ratchet, Clank, their entire universe and everything in it are copyright and trademark by Sony, Insomniac Games, etc. Rue, a.k.a. Wombat Rue, is the creation of Brady Canfield. Both are used without permission in this story. I highly recommend that you check out Wombat Rue! I wanted to use him in a cameo crossover because he is such an interesting (and potentially fun) character and to give a bit of exposure to a great self-published comic. For more information, go to www (dot) wombat (dash) rue (dot) com.

b) Special thanks to ITMan496 for keeping me interested in this fic even after all this time, and for his spectacular ship modeling skills - itman496 (dot) deviantart (dot) com.

c) The term "manifestor" was coined by Hatoshi (a.k.a. Stephen Stryker). I have used the term, and the general concept behind the technology with his permission. See my previous disclaimers for how my use evolved / branched out into different areas.

d) Any other characters, constructs, devices, mythologies, social conventions, foods, medical or engineering implements that are in this story that are not the property of Sony, Insomniac Games, Brady Publishing, etc. are my own constructs. Personally, I can't see why anyone would ever want to reuse them, but some folks have. If you do, you should ask first: it's polite, and as long as the characters stay at least somewhat in character, it's usually okay with me.

e) This story is based on the rest of my Leonid Stories (Recommended reading order: Homecoming, Relativity, Instincts, Registration, Bait, Mortality, Override, Friends, Terms, Diplomacy). I wrote the first draft of the text between 12 August 2011 and 12 May 2012. Yes, it took a while. The story had been sitting dormant for months as other things got in the way and as my attention drifted. I did my traditional proof reads and embellishment edits, but as everyone knows, not even the pros catch every typo.

f) This story takes place approximately two months after the end of Terms, almost (but not quite) three years after the end of Tools of Destruction. The canon plotline from IG and mine diverged after that. I make no apologies for this, nor will I adjust the stories to try to resynchronize them. But you might need to review Homecoming for how I perceive the Zoni throughout this fic, and Clank's previous interaction with them.

g) I am not a professional writer, and I do not claim to be able to write either well or coherently. It is merely a minor amusement, a side story to while away the time...

h) All other standard disclaimers from my previous stories apply. As always I reserve the right to edit or tweak the text as I see fit, to improve or correct it, or to delete it at any time for any reason. So, for your entertainment...

i) Enjoy!


	2. Prologue

**Prologue: Special Envoy**

H22 nervously let his optics dart to his left and his right. The large, hulking warbots flanking him on either side were certainly impressive looking in their anodized black and gold armor. And while the members of the Elite Presidential Guard did not carry any visible weapons, H22 knew that either one of them could have crushed his chassis without even overheating slightly. The dusty Galactic Ranger fixed his gaze ahead once more, determined not to let his escort see the fear he felt in every conduit of his being. Of course, gazing forward meant starting directly into the back of the Elite Guard leading their small group towards the central office of the President of the Solana Galaxy. And while H22 could not help but wonder why _he_ of all people had been summoned to an audience with the president, plucked from his boring but safe duty patrolling the unimportant planet of Veldin, he knew that such speculation was futile: it did not provide him with either answers or comfort in this unusual situation. So H22 mentally recalibrated and performed a few routine diagnostics to keep himself calm as he continued striding forward, his pace matched by the guards in front, behind, and to either side, their footsteps clanging loudly against the steel floor of the orbiting station.

The Presidential Station, the administrative and political hub of elected authority, was as centrally located as physically possible within the spiral arms of the Solana Galaxy. The station orbited at a safe distance from the supermassive black hole that rotated at the exact center of Solana. While the location was somewhat bleak and inhospitable outside the walls of the station and the high power shielding that protected it, the black hole provided ample power, significant defensive and tactical advantages, and (more pragmatically) was as close as you could possibly get to any of the spacefaring civilizations that resided within the galactic plane.

Composed of four ring-like superstructures attached around a central core, the station itself represented the height of technology and design within Solana. Each ring was dedicated to a specific function: the ring innermost facing to the black hole provided power generation and life support; the next two rings housed the administrative facilities, bureaucratic offices, and legislative staff for the alpha and beta arms of the spiral galaxy; the outermost ring, facing the galaxy in general, was the local base for the Galactic Rangers, along with hangers and docks for ships of all scale, ranging from flagships to unmanned fighters.

The central hub was where all of these other functions came together. It contained the visitor reception area, suites for dignitaries and ambassadors from other galaxies, conference rooms, the legislative chambers, and, most importantly, the presidential suite. Located at the very tip of the central hub, the office of the president was purposefully designed to maximize aesthetics. Careful use of grav ramps allowed the presidential office to function on a different 'down' axis when compared to the rest of the station. The result was that the circular office of the president was situated at the very tip of the station, with multi-cubit thick transparent polymer domed walls and ceiling inviting visitors entering via the grav ramps to look into the monstrous black hole 'above' them. It was certainly impressive for allies, deliberately calculated to provide the maximum effect and homeworld advantage to the president, and it intimidated many heads of state that had reason to visit the office.

Intimidation was the last thing that H22 needed just now. As he waited outside the open double-doors leading into the presidential suite, he was struck by the grandeur of the office, as well as the spectacular view! The massive desk of the President of the Solana Galaxy appeared to have been carved from a single large block of fossilized wood, with the cell structure and resins slowly replaced by minerals over millennia of exposure to the elements. Aside from the grav ramp he had climbed to reach the doors of the suite, there were three additional doors, equidistant around the center point of the room. While the peculiar architecture did not allow H22 to see beyond the doors, the artificial lighting around the left and right exits implied offices or some other organic support facilities. The exit at the far end of the room was illuminated with a dim red glow: the innermost airlock door for an emergency pod. H22 was extremely familiar with emergency pods, as he was with all sorts of escape technology. He was a little surprised to see one here, but given the precarious orbit, he had to admit that it made a lot of sense, especially on a self-contained station like this one.

President Phyronix, an unusually large and imposing cazar, paced back and forth behind the massive stone desk, clearly agitated by his current batch of visitors. Cazars were natural and dedicated leaders, and most people throughout the galaxy respected their inborn talents for government office by electing them to positions of public service. Apparently, at least one of his current visitors was less impressed by that natural ability at the moment. That made a great deal of sense, given that the other people in the office were his diminutive daughter, Sasha Phyronix, Commander of the Galactic Rangers and Mayor of Metropolis on Kerwan. She appeared to be just as animated as her father, her stern voice raised in a mixture of anger and frustration. H22 recognized the third person in the room as Big Al, a member of Q-Force and owner / operator of a series of roboshops across the galaxy, but he did not know much more about him than that. Al seemed rather overwhelmed by the two opposing cazars; he was standing meekly on the side of the room, glancing back and forth between the President and his daughter as they exchanged verbal barbs.

The Elite Guard in front of H22 suddenly spun to face him, and with a mere glare from his optics immediately told him all he needed to know: he was to remain silent, and if he repeated anything he heard, the guard would personally tear him into scrap on the spot.

"Dad," Sasha said, her voice mixed with frustration and anger. "It's not as if I'm going into a war zone or anything. Leonid has been settled by the lombaxes for over twenty-five years. You've been there yourself!" The young cazar glared up at her father; she was a lot shorter than he was, but she did not consider that a disadvantage in this debate. Moving to close the distance between them, she poked her surprised father in the chest with her finger. "It's my _diplomatic_ _duty_ to go! This is the first permanent trade agreement between our dimensions, and I'm not about to let some junior staffer embarrass us!" She gestured at Al, waiting quietly and trying not to be noticed. "Al's shop is just the beginning!"

"I know all that!" the President interrupted, almost as hotly. "There's no question about the benefits of having the lombaxes as allies; and as trading partners." He glared down at her, and the anger on his face seemed to fade away for a moment, overshadowed by something else. But the anger was quick to return. "But why _you_? There are plenty of other diplomats that we can send." He glanced at Al for a moment, and then returned his eyes to meet his daughters'. "And settled or no, it's still dangerous."

"No it isn't," Sasha rebutted angrily. "And we both know it!" Closing her eyes for a moment, Sasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Yelling wasn't getting her anywhere, and her father was not being practical about this. If anything, she knew from past experience that he actually enjoyed the challenge. "Besides," she started, "I will be the honored guest of the lombax government. The prime minister himself asked me to attend." This was true - newly re-elected Prime Minister Reginald Solstice had extended his personal invitation to her. "And Ratchet and Clank..."

President Phyronix interrupted his daughter. "I know!" he shouted in a rather uncharacteristically open outburst. "That's _exactly_ what I'm worried about!"

Sasha's face lost all trace of anger, and concern filled her features. "Dad," she said softly, suspicion edging into her voice. "I hope you don't think..."

"I don't know what to think," the President replied, a bit more calmly now that the fire from his daughter had been diffused. "We've had this discussion before. But no matter what, even _you'll_ have to agree that the pair is a constant magnet for trouble!"

"He's changed, dad," Sasha explained quietly. "He's not as reckless as he used to be."

"I know," the president muttered. "When I was there, I could tell." President Phyronix looked at his daughter, noting the steely resolve in her features. That look reminded him of her mother, lost many years ago. And with the realization of where he had seen that look before, President Phyronix knew that this was an argument that he was not going to win. But he had never really expected to. "Okay." Sasha's features lit up at the word. "You will go as the official ambassador from Solana. BUT..." The president glanced at H22 and the Guards waiting around him. "You will have to take two Rangers as an escort."

"I really don't need an escort, Dad," Sasha began.

"Tough!" President Phyronix said with a note of finality in his voice. "Consider them honor guards for your official delegation." He glanced over at Al once again. The engineer was looking up with a hopeful expression on his face, his right organic hand carefully covering his robotic left. Looking back to his daughter, he nodded to Al and pointedly added, "They will take care of both of you." The president glanced down at his desk. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

"You have a galaxy to run," Sasha finished for him, having heard him use the phrase countless times. The president chuckled, but did not sit back down. "Thanks, Dad," Sasha said warmly. "I'll contact the ambassador and set up the details." Sasha grabbed Al by his arm, pulling the engineer away from the view around them. Before they left the room, Sasha looked back over her shoulder and softly said, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Sasha," the president replied, still standing behind his desk. He watched them depart through the door to H22's right. After they had gone, the president looked over towards the ranger and nodded. The Elite Presidential Guards moved forward, forcing H22 to step into the large office. In a well-practiced maneuver, the Guards fanned out, each moving to stand next to one of the doors of the round room, including the emergency pod. They effectively cut off all avenues of escape, a detail not unnoticed by H22...

"I suppose you heard all that," the president began.

"Uh..., Yes, sir." H22 replied, somewhat hesitantly.

"No matter," the president replied, waving his right hand in a dismissive gesture. He looked into the Ranger's optics. "It'll save time."

The president looked over the Ranger slowly, and H22 began to feel a bit self-conscious. He wished he had time for a fresh coat of paint, or at least a fast pass with a brass-bristled brush to remove the rust and dirt that had built up while he was on Veldin.

"Let me get right to the point," the president began. "I brought you here because I need your help."

"Me?" H22 blurted out, interrupting the President of the Solana Galaxy. He immediately regretted doing it, and fell silent once more.

"Yes," the president said quietly, nodding. "You are the perfect person for this assignment. You heard my daughter - she's determined to go to Leonid; to the lombaxes." There was a certain antipathy in the president's voice as he growled the species name. The president stared directly at H22's optics as he continued. "You're going to pick someone you can trust, and you're going to be her escort."

H22's optics immediately brightened significantly. Wow! The technological expertise of the lombaxes was legendary, and a ticket to their homeworld was a once-in-a-lifetime dream assignment! Plus, taking care of Sasha Phyronix would be a really cushy job; she was probably better with tactics than eighty-five percent of the Ranger Corps. And it would give him the chance to catch up with Sergeant Ratchet again! He had not served with the lombax since the Biobliterator War, but they had been friends ever since. Now that the lombax lived in Leonid, they had not spoken, except via occasional vids, for some time.

"Thank you, Mister President," H22 said, saluting, eagerness creeping into his voice. "It would be an honor to escort your daughter."

"Yeah..." The president replied, casually saluting in return. "I know how close you were to the lombax; that's why I picked you." He paused, glancing at the open door behind the ranger. Looking over to one of the Elite Guards, he said, "Could you give us a few minutes alone? I'll call when we're done."

H22 was so happy about his new assignment that he did not notice the Elite Presidential Guards salute, withdraw through the doors and seal them shut. The Guard watching the airlock deactivated his audio / video inputs and retreated one step backward towards the escape pod, his immense frame casting a large and ominous shadow in the red emergency illumination.


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Solar Wind Surfing**

"Ratchet, are you certain that you want to do this?" Clank asked for the third time. The small robot was staring over at Ratchet, his scanners moving over the lombax's form from the tips of his large ears brushing the closed canopy of his fighter to his bare feet and tail tuft in the leg well of the pilot seat. Clank knew very well that lombaxes in general had a somewhat foolhardy nature, craving adventure and excitement in strange and often dangerous ways, and Ratchet was somewhat more reckless than most. But the lombax's actions this time both puzzled and amused his friend. Clank knew that he would never be able to change Ratchet's mind; once the lombax settled on a course of action, logic and reasoned argument would only make his friend more obstinate. That just made this specific situation all the more amusing. "Have you carefully considered what you are planning to do?"

Ratchet gave a somewhat exasperated sigh. "Yes, Clank," he said, his frustration at being nagged showing in the slightly sarcastic tone of his voice. The lombax carefully looked over his own body. While the solar wind surfing trunks were somewhat garish with their hideous green, yellow and pink flowers, Ratchet had to concede that they were necessary. The hyperband outfitter specializing in solar wind surfing didn't sell anything more tasteful, and all of the tabloid stills he had seen (most featuring the carefully brushed fur and easygoing smile of Nigel Heliopause) seemed to indicate that loud shorts were the uniform of the sport.

Aside from the shorts, the lombax was also wearing thin polymer bands around both of his wrists and his ankles. Ratchet looked carefully at each one, making sure they were giving off their tell-tale golden glow. Any one of the specially crafted devices would have been enough to provide the lombax with a life support force field sufficient to survive the vacuum of space indefinitely (or at least until the power cell ran out), but one of the safety concessions he made to Talwyn before leaving on this adventure was to wear more than one of the LS bracelets. A grin spread across Ratchet's muzzle as he looked into his friend's sensors. "I swear," he began, "you worry almost as much as Talwyn."

"They do have a point, Ratchet," Aphelion said. Her cultured voice was somewhat hesitant and uncertain, as though mystified why a pilot would leave a perfectly functional ship to float around in interplanetary space.

"Not you, too?" Ratchet muttered softly.

"Indeed, Ratchet," Clank replied. "We are all quite concerned about your intentions."

"Look," Ratchet said sharply, a bit of heat rising in his voice. "I've got everything I need: board, sail, shorts..." The lombax paused for a second, thinking about the absurdity of said shorts, but then continued on. "LS bracelets." Ratchet fished around for a second in his manifestor, and selected a small bottle. "I've even got Cosmic Ray Ban!" The lombax popped the stopper off the small bottle with his thumb and quickly drank the thick liquid. While the description on the bottle claimed it was fruit flavored, Ratchet nearly gagged on the repulsive stuff. The lombax tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder into the storage area behind the seat. But the bitter taste of the radiation drug extinguished some of the annoyance Ratchet felt, reminding him that his friends were just worried about him. And even though solar wind surfing was becoming a popular sport, mostly due to Nigel, he had never tried it before. Maybe that they had a reason to be nervous.

"Was that necessary?" Aphelion asked in a somewhat hurt tone. She took a great deal of pride in her appearance, and the thought of having trash rolling around loose inside her cabin irritated her immensely. While Aphelion was very fond of her pilot, the lombax had a significant number of bad habits, and she had been tempted to gas him with cryosleep on more than one occasion.

"I'm sorry, Aphelion," Ratchet answered quietly. "I didn't mean it. I'll dig it out when we land."

"I should hope so," Aphelion replied curtly. "The cap as well."

"Yes, ma'am," Ratchet replied meekly, hanging his head like a guilty schoolboy, his ears drooping as well.

Clank began to chuckle at the exchange, and Aphelion could never stay angry at the outrageous lombax for very long. The mood in the craft lightened significantly. "Besides," Ratchet said, returning to the mission at hand, "it's not like I'm doin' anything dangerous. I'm just gonna have some fun, that's all."

"Talwyn asked that I carefully monitor your progress, and record video footage for her," Aphelion said.

Ratchet nodded. It was yet another 'safety precaution' Talwyn insisted on. Like the redundant LS bracelets and the Cosmic Ray Ban. "Cool," Ratchet said at last. "Anyway, I wanna check out the vid too."

* * *

Ratchet looked upward through the transparent canopy at the starfield above them, a grin on his face and the tips of his ears twitching in excitement and anticipation. "Okay, Aphelion," he said. "This looks good." The lombax disengaged the manual controls, turning all flight systems over to his ship. He glanced over at Clank in the co-pilot's seat. The robot was still somewhat nervous, with his eyes glowing very brightly as they stared back to meet his own. "Ready?"

"Yes, Ratchet," Clank replied. There was a strange tone in his voice, as though the robot was holding something back. Ratchet noticed that the tip of Clank's antenna was glowing ever so slightly.

"I'll be fine," Ratchet reassured his friend.

Clank did not react, nor did he reply immediately. If anything, the glow in his antenna tip brightened ever so slightly. "Of course, Ratchet," he stated in a carefully controlled tone.

Ratchet nodded, satisfied. The lombax tugged on each finger of his left glove in turn, pulled off the garment and draped it across his knee. He began pulling at his right glove in turn.

"Ratchet," Clank began. "You are not taking your manifestor?"

"Why should I?" Ratchet answered, removing his right glove and placing it on top of his left. Absentmindedly, the lombax began to carefully roll the two gloves together into a compact ball for storage. "It's not like I'm gonna need it." He unclasped the strap of his pilot's cap, the one with the neural matrix that Al installed. Ratchet took it off, being careful not to catch his ears, and put the balled up gloves inside. "Besides," he continued, stowing the cap into the small storage compartment on the pilot's side, "solar wind surfin's not about the gear. It's primitive; it's about a 'bax 'n his board, with nothin' but the solar wind t' push 'em 'n a star t' guide 'em..."

"But, Ratchet," Aphelion began in a tone that sounded like the beginning of a lecture, but she was quickly interrupted by Clank.

"Indeed, Ratchet," Clank said in a somewhat loud voice that filled the tiny cabin. He placed his hand over one of Aphelion's speakers. "We will monitor and record your progress as you instructed."

"Cool!" Ratchet said. With his gloves and cap safely stowed away, Ratchet took a few deep breaths. "Okay, Aphelion. Lemme out."

"As you wish, Ratchet," she said. There was a somewhat puzzled note in her voice, as though she did not fully understand what was happening. But she complied.

The lighting inside the canopy darkened and was replaced by the faint red glow of the emergency systems. Clank cinched his safety harness tightly against himself, while Ratchet slowly reached for the release catch on his own. A faint hissing filled the cabin as the atmosphere was pumped out. The golden radiance of Ratchet's LS bracelets intensified, and the lombax began to glow slightly in the darkness. Ratchet took another deep breath, sustained by his life support field, and his smile widened further.

"Decompression complete," Aphelion announced quietly. "Artificial gravity disengaged. Releasing cabin interlock."

The canopy swung open slowly in the vacuum of space, and while the protective cover was completely transparent, there were still enough variations in its construction to distort the stars slightly. Now, without anything between the lombax and open space (except his life support field), Ratchet stared out into the majesty of the starfield above him.

"Thanks, Aphelion," Ratchet said, his whispered voice transmitted via his LS gear. "Lemme get clear, then gimme some room."

"Yes, Ratchet," she answered.

The lombax reached for the small package resting between his feet in the leg well. The oblong rectangle was roughly twenty centicubits by ten by three. There was an eye hook attached to one corner, and a long loop of polyfilament floated freely from it in zero-g. Ratchet grabbed the loop and fastened it securely to one of the grommets sewn into the waistband of his shorts. Grinning broadly, the lombax released his safety harness, braced his hands on the seat beneath him, and pushed. Hard.

In the zero-g orbit, Ratchet was slowly propelled upward by the force of his shove. He drifted up and out of the top of Aphelion, floating free in empty space, the package following behind him at the end of its tether.

"Are you okay, Ratchet?" Clank asked.

"Yeah, Clank," Ratchet replied. He looked around at the magnificence of the universe around him. Aphelion was now a few dozen cubits below him as he continued to drift away from her. With a slight glow around her engines, she began moving silently away under her own power, using minimal inertial fields to provide separation between them. Ratchet could see the satellite defense belt and the lombax homeworld beneath his feet, his position stable in geostationary orbit. "Aphelion?" Ratchet called.

"Yes, Ratchet?"

"Start recording," Ratchet said. "I'm gonna open my board."

"Very well," Aphelion replied heavily.

"What?" Ratchet asked, somewhat surprised by her dark tone.

"Nothing, Ratchet," Clank answered quickly. "Please proceed."

Ratchet shrugged slightly in the night, grabbed the polyfilament, and pulled the package towards him. Grasping the board in his bare hands, the lombax carefully activated the expansion control and pushed the board away from him again, allowing it to drift away slowly into empty space. Five seconds later, the board began to change, elongating and widening along both its length and width. Two loops of polyfilament emerged on the large plane of the board, and an illumination filament running along the perimeter of the device flashed green three times.

The lombax smiled and reeled the board back in once more. Grasping it tightly once again, he bent over (tumbling slightly in the zero-g) and stuck his bare foot through one of the two loops. Once his foot was in place, sensors on the board retracted the polyfilament until it was a snug fit. Ratchet placed his other foot through the second loop, and it similarly tightened.

Ratchet could not keep the joy out of his voice as he called to Aphelion and Clank. "Check this out!" With his large toe, he activated the final control on the board. A whiplike antenna emerged from a tiny opening at the edge of the board to his right, extending well above Ratchet's height. The lombax watched in fascination as the mast began to rotate and a sheet of extremely thin semi-metallic mesh unfurled. Ratchet turned quickly to face forward, grinning broadly and looking down at New Fastoon and Aphelion floating beneath him.

Nothing happened.

The grin began to fade from the lombax's muzzle.

Nothing happened.

The grin was replaced by a look of confusion, and the lombax turned back to the sail on his right.

The mesh of the sail was moving slightly, bowing outward, away from New Fastoon's sun as elementary particles slowly collected in it. As the lombax watched, the sail filled with the solar wind, and the board began to move ever so slowly forward.

Ratchet looked back at New Fastoon, and the satellite defense belt. Studying the satellites closely, he picked one out from the network and stared at it. Yes. He was moving relative to the planet, but at such a slow speed that he might as well have been standing still.

"Clank?" Ratchet called out to his friend in the ship below him. "What am I doing wrong?"

Ratchet's heart sank a bit when the comm channel engaged. Clank was laughing very hard. Even Aphelion was laughing; it would have been a rather pleasant sound had it not been for the circumstances. After a few moments that seemed a lot longer to the lombax, Clank finally replied. "You are not doing anything wrong, Ratchet."

"Then why ain't I movin'?" Ratchet shouted, waving his arms around in frustration. In the zero-g vacuum of space, the lombax's movements merely caused him to twirl slightly.

"You are moving, Ratchet," Clank answered.

"You know what I mean," Ratchet replied exasperated.

"Indeed." Clank's voice, while still extremely amused, became a bit more critical as he lectured his friend. "What you are experiencing is normal for solar wind surfing."

Ratchet remained silent. Normal? This? But...

"Had you actually _read_ the articles and researched the sport," Clank continued, "you would have found that solar wind surfing is a highly... meditative exercise. It is not about speed. It is, as you corrected stated earlier, 'about a lombax and his board, with nothing but the solar wind to push him and a star to guide him'..."

"But," Ratchet started weakly, "I'm barely movin'..."

"That is correct, Ratchet," Clank explained. "The acceleration provided by a star's solar wind is very slight, and takes time to accumulate significant velocity."

Ratchet's shoulders slumped as he looked at the billowing sail once more. "So..."

"It would take months, possibly years, to reach the velocity required for interplanetary flight."

Ratchet touched the mast control with his toe once more. The sail furled and retracted back into the base of the board. The lombax slipped his feet from the bindings and the polyfilament retracted back into the board. He began to reel the device in once more and said in a quiet voice, "You knew, didn't you?"

Clank chuckled over the transmission. "Of course, Ratchet," he said, somewhat smugly. "When you first mentioned your desire to attempt solar wind surfing, I downloaded a significant amount of reference material, in case you required my assistance. When it became clear that the only question you had was specific to your attire, I realized the situation, and predicted the likely outcome." Clank paused for a moment, enjoying the stunned silence on the link. "And to answer your next question, yes, Talwyn was aware of this as well."

Ratchet's heart sank at the words. That was, indeed, his next question. He had been telling her all along how cool solar wind surfing was, flying unpowered above the planet, how exciting it would be. And she had patiently listened to it all, even going as far as demanding multiple safety precautions, and that... Oh no.

"Aphelion, are you still recording?" Ratchet asked weakly.

"Yes, Ratchet," Aphelion cheerfully replied. Despite the fact that the joke had been on him all along, Ratchet had to admit that it was nice to hear her so amused. Especially given all that they had been through over the years. "I must admit that I had been confused about your original interest in this sport. It seemed so unlike you..."

"I don't suppose you'd delete the vid if I asked ya nicely?" Ratchet offered, a hopeful note in his voice. But he knew the answer before he even finished asking it.

"I am sorry, Ratchet," she replied. "Talwyn asked that I encrypt the recording and write-protect it."

"Figures," Ratchet mumbled. Board in hand, he activated the expansion control and pushed it away. After a few seconds, the board had compressed itself back to its original dimensions. He began reeling it in again. "So you weren't in on it?"

"No, Ratchet, I was not," Aphelion replied. "However, it did provide you with a rather valuable lesson."

Ratchet looked at her, floating easily above the planet's surface. He held the solar wind surfing board in his hands and stared at it, studying its compact form for nearly a minute. Nodding to himself, and somewhat disgusted, he unfastened the tether from his shorts and threw the board away from him, allowing it to drift slowly downward towards New Fastoon. It was a somewhat grim (if petty) satisfaction that it would burn up on reentry. Perhaps someone below would see the tiny flare as it vaporized in the atmosphere. "What lesson?" he asked as his throw caused him to drift further away from the planet.

"Never abandon a healthy ship without a really good reason."

* * *

Ratchet floated in empty space, staring alternately at the planet below him and the stars all around. They really were quite pretty, and so amazingly clear outside of the distorting effects of the atmosphere and the light pollution in Region 9. He drifted aimlessly, feeling rather comfortable and strangely content in zero-g, chatting with Clank and Aphelion.

Ratchet had initially requested that Aphelion retrieve him immediately after his failed solar wind surfing experiment. But both Aphelion and Clank were strangely reluctant. At first, Ratchet thought they were just trying to prove their point, and promised that he would be more careful in the future. But as the minutes went by, it became clear to him that they had something else in mind. As the lombax relaxed, his mind drifted as well.

"Ya know," Ratchet began, "Nigel's got the right idea. This _is_ kinda cool."

"It is not what you expected, however," Clank answered with a faint chuckle.

"True." Ratchet's whispered answer was both quiet and succinct.

"Now you know why I like to fly so much," Aphelion said. "There are times when the conditions are perfect, and gliding within the atmosphere is like a dream. Other times, it is nice just to relax in the black, looking out into infinity."

"Yeah," Ratchet replied. "But I don't think I could deal with this much quiet fer long."

"Lombax nature?" Clank asked.

"Probably," Ratchet replied.

"Talwyn thought you might enjoy some time in space," Clank continued. "She knows how much you enjoy starting up at the stars. This is the closest that you can get to actually seeing them."

Ratchet chuckled to himself. First, that Talwyn had put them up to leaving him floating in space for a while. After all, when they first met, she had threatened to send him out an airlock! She probably knew he would leave his manifestor behind, and with it all possible methods of propulsion. Second, Clank's comment about viewing the stars unfiltered. "What's it like, Clank?" he asked. "What do _you_ see when ya look at 'em?"

The reply was rather surprising to Ratchet. "I see them as they really are."

After a few moments, Ratchet knew that he had to ask. "Yeah... 'N what's that?"

"As living entities, Ratchet," Clank replied. "Their life cycles are well beyond the span of organic life. But there may be some beings, either robotic or hybrid in nature, that can perceive that span." Clank was silent for a moment. "I have only recently begun investigating the matter. I suspect that it was my experience with the Zoni that sparked this line of speculation."

Clank rarely talked about his time with the Zoni, and he was quick to change the direction of the conversation. "Are you ready to return to the ship, Ratchet?"

The lombax noticed the abrupt change of subject. But floating helplessly in space, no matter how relaxing it might be, was still not something to be taken lightly. "Yeah," Ratchet said. "Thanks. Is that okay with you Aphelion?"

"Yes, Ratchet," she answered. "I think you have learned your lesson."

Ratchet watched her as her engines started glowing once more, her inertial field generators coming to life. "Are ya comin' t' Al's opening?" Ratchet asked. He watched as Aphelion carefully maneuvered herself to intercept his current trajectory.

"I would not miss it for the world," she replied. "Some friends and I plan to perform a flyby in formation. It should look rather impressive from the ground. We have been practicing." Aphelion's open cabin and canopy were directly above him, and the inertia from all of his movements was causing him to drift slowly to her.

"That's great!" Ratchet said. Reaching out, he was able to touch and grab hold of her canopy. With a stationary object to hang on to, Ratchet was able to pull himself into the cabin, and orient himself into the seat. "Al's been lookin' forward t' this."

Big Al had developed something of a reputation among the lombaxes of New Fastoon. While the engineer was certainly not a lombax, he had an uncanny ability to understand lombax technology, improve on it, and make it accessible in ways that they had not thought of before. This first started with the neural matrix interface that Reg had given to Ratchet nearly three years ago. While the lombaxes had considered the technology interesting and useful, they had never actually expanded on it, or stabilized it to a point where it could become a household product. Fully a quarter of the populace of New Fastoon now had their own neural matrix caps, and Al's waiting list was nearly months long. His skill with technology, and his knack for finding practical applications to some of the lombaxes' rather outlandish ideas, elevated him to a level of respect that most engineers could only dream of.

Petrov had been the one to convince Al to open a branch of his roboshop franchise in the Leonid Galaxy. This actually took a lot of persuasion, not just with Al and his family, but with the Lombax Defense Ministry and Lombax Central Council as well.

"Indeed," Clank replied. "Al has been very excited about his new location."

Ratchet pulled himself into the pilot seat and fastened the safety harness. "Yeah," he said. Carefully adjusting his tail so that it would not pull awkwardly or get crimped when gravity returned, Ratchet looked at the control panel, and the vid link that he knew was located there. "Okay, Aphelion. I'm in."

"Thank goodness!" Aphelion exclaimed. The canopy quickly swung shut, as if she was in a hurry to capture the errant lombax. "Cabin interlock engaged. Stand by for artificial gravity activation in three... two... one..."

There was a sudden and brief sensation of falling as gravity returned, followed by a rather uncomfortable pinching. Ratchet had been careful to adjust his tail so that it would not get squashed, but with all of the twisting about in open space, his shorts had shifted and were binding him rather uncomfortably. The lombax squirmed in his seat as he adjusted them.

"Artificial gravity engaged," Aphelion continued, not wanting to show her annoyance at her pilot's movements. There was a hissing sound. "Compression complete. You may now remove those silly bracelets." Ratchet smiled and began taking off the LS bands. "Is Al moving to New Fastoon?" Aphelion asked.

"Not yet," Ratchet said as he took the final band off his right ankle, thinking briefly about the tracers that he has originally been forced to wear after being drafted to council. "Nick's gonna run the shop fer him. Al's gonna commute fer a while, but I'll bet he's gonna move here eventually."

"Nicholas Neutrino is a great choice for running the New Fastoon shop," Aphelion said.

"Yeah," Ratchet agreed as he opened the pilot's storage compartment. He tossed two of the LS bracelets into it for emergencies, and then carefully removed his cap and gloves. "Nick's lookin' forward to it."

"He and Al have developed a rather strong friendship," Clank stated. "Nick is probably the best choice to run the store in Al's absence."

Ratchet chuckled. "'N it gives 'em a good excuse t' hang around the Polaris embassy." The lombax smirked slightly as he said it. Handing the remaining two LS bracelets to Clank, he said, "Could ya throw these in yours?" Clank nodded and stowed the devices into the co-pilot's storage bay.

"Do you really believe that Nicholas and Ambassador Parallax will become bonded?" Aphelion asked.

"Yes," Clank answered. "It is highly likely."

"It's just a matter o' time," Ratchet said, his smirk degenerating into a somewhat dirty leer. "They've been spendin' a lotta, ahem, 'quality time' together." Clank chuckled slightly as Ratchet continued. "He's practically rebuilt the entire Apogee Station. Last I heard, he was huntin' fer more asteroids t' bulk up the station's defenses."

"Nicholas has also been researching the life cycle of interplanetary leviathans."

Ratchet looked over to Clank, surprised. "Really? Where'd ya here that?"

Clank had an innocent look on his features, but Ratchet again noticed the slight glow at the tip of his friend's antenna. The lombax should have known there was something up with the solar wind surfing fiasco when he noticed it earlier.

"I have my ways, Ratchet," Clank evaded smoothly.

"Okay," Ratchet answered, not wanting to push the matter too much. He directed his attention back to Aphelion as he put on his cap and gloves. "Anyway, Nick'll be there. And Reg told me a lotta other folks 'r comin' too. Dignitaries. Ambassadors. That kinda thing. Plus a lotta folks me 'n Clank hung out with in Solana. I'll be a blast!"

The lombax began to search through his manifestor and selected his typical flight suit and some comfortable boots. As the clothing materialized, Clank looked at him, somewhat quizzically. Ratchet unfastened his safety harness, stripped off the ugly shorts and began to dress. Aphelion sighed, shutting down her video feed when the lombax first started changing. At last meeting Clank's look as he slipped on his boots, Ratchet paused briefly and asked innocently, "What?"


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Arrival**

Ratchet shifted his weight slightly, his tail acting as an automatic counterbalance as he tried to force the bored look off his muzzle. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he consciously reminded himself that he had volunteered for this, and that this was the only formal bit to the whole proceedings. It would be a lot of fun. Really. He just had to get through this stupid ceremony. He let his held breath out in a deep and very loud sigh. A strong, yet somewhat delicately small, gloved hand forced its way into his own, and gave it a friendly squeeze. Ratchet ears perked up a bit; he looked to his left and saw Talwyn's somewhat sarcastic grin as she held his hand. Her eyes were extremely amused and glistened happily in the bright artificial sunlight of the formal Lombax reception hall. Ratchet's dull look dropped away and a smile began to form on his face. Talwyn's eyes twinkled slightly as she clenched her hand tightly, squeezing his own in her rather firm grip. It was not strong enough to really hurt, but it did get the point across: she was silently telling him to behave himself. Ratchet leaned over and kissed her very gently on the pointy tip of her tiny ear, the fur of his muzzle tickling her slightly. Her grip released quickly and she moved to brush him away, a slight giggle escaping her. Spiff Gaiden, seated at the table in front of them, turned suddenly and glared at Talwyn through his wire rimmed spectacles. She abruptly flushed crimson in embarrassment, squeaked out a brief apology, then fell silent once more. Ratchet did not meet her eyes, but his grin widened and his hand sought out hers once more.

"Yeah, Talwyn! Shush!" Nicholas whispered from somewhere behind them, causing her to flush crimson a second time, and generating a series of laughs from the crowd of volunteers assembled around them.

Spiff quickly stood and spun to face the small group of waiting lombaxes that were gathered behind him. "Look," he said, somewhat angrily. "This is tedious enough as it is. You're just prolonging things."

Newly re-selected Prime Minister Reginald Solstice, the only lombax dressed in the traditional white of an ambassadorial role * , moved to calm Spiff down.

(* - Reg Solstice was dressed tip to tail in white, as custom dictated. But rather than wear the dress uniform of the Lombax Defense Ministry, Reg had shown up in an all white variation of his typical play clothes. The prime minister was dressed in an unfastened white leather vest, and white jeans that had a ragged tear over his right knee. Because this was the lombax homeworld, Reg was barefoot at the moment, but he carried a pair of white workboots in his left hand.)

"It's not that big a deal," he said to Spiff. "Remember what we talked about earlier. Have fun with it."

A somewhat sinister smirk played on the edges of Spiff's muzzle, and he nodded to his brother-in-law. Spiff glanced back at the crowd, and the vicious grin on the ex-minister's face silenced the group far more effectively than anything he could have said. "That's better," he mumbled. "After all, we have a reputation to maintain." He sat back down at the table, organizing his notes.

Ratchet released Talwyn's hand and moved to Reg's side. "Didja have t' give 'm ideas?" he whispered.

"It seemed the fastest way to get this over with," Reg replied, equally quietly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Ratchet conceded. A mischievous grin appeared, and he whispered, "Ya look good in white, by the way."

Reg stifled a laugh. "Bite me," he retorted.

Ratchet smiled and moved back to Talwyn and Clank, standing at the edge of the waiting group.

The week following last Selection Day was somewhat awkward for Ratchet. He had actually won the popular vote to become the next Prime Minister, but due to the somewhat random nature of lombax politics, Reg had been selected instead. Ratchet didn't quite know how to handle the situation. The lombax was immensely relieved that he had not been picked, but felt somewhat guilty that his close friend (and someone he had grown to think of as an adopted uncle) had to serve in his place instead. Ratchet actually avoided Reg for a while. It was only when Reg showed up unannounced at the Nebula Complex to challenge Ratchet to a rocket sled race that the young lombax realized that things were okay between them. The only mention Reg ever made to the Selection was a single ominous bit of advice: "When your Council term expires, run! Find somewhere offworld and keep a low profile for a while. You can't count on being lucky twice!"

Reg looked at the small group of lombaxes. Well, not all lombaxes... Ratchet was there, with Talwyn and Clank. Nicholas and Nichole stood on either side of their father, Petrov. Ember Caliber waited in silence at the back edge of the crowd, and Zeke Wavelength sat in a chair next to Spiff at the table. "Are you ready, Spiff?" Reg asked.

Spiff looked over his notes one final time, and glanced at Regional Minister Rich Quantum at the far end of the room. Rich was standing behind the inverted dome control system of a dimensionator, tweaking the settings and extending various protrusions and bits of telescoping antennae from the device. The regional minister ceased his tinkering and nodded to Spiff. "We are ready to begin, Prime Minister," Spiff announced formally.

Spiff and all of those gathered were keenly aware that this was a somewhat historic moment for the lombaxes. The species had travelled far, between worlds, galaxies, even dimensions. They had set up diplomatic relationships with nearly a dozen civilizations, and established alliances with a select few of those. But while the lombaxes had always been involved in trade and sharing technology on an individual basis, this was the first time that they (as a species) had ever openly invited trade relations with anyone.

It was also a big deal because it was the first time that dimensional transport was going to be allowed for private use. Until now, dimensionator technology was kept under strict control, managed by the offices of the Lombax Defense Ministry. Even transD communications were logged, but not usually monitored. The only dimensionators offworld were located deep in the most secure sections of the lombax flagships or embassies, and they were fitted with autodestruct systems that would completely destroy the devices in the event of attack, tampering, or prolonged abandonment. Allowing dimensionator technology into private hands was certainly a new and somewhat risky step for the lombaxes. (After all, the cragmites were still out there!) Al and Nicholas were going to be formally presented with pre-programmed, small scale dimensionator devices based on Ratchet's 'door glove'. These would allow the business partners move freely between fixed points inside the Leonid and Solana branches of Al's Roboshop, but would not be as 'general purpose' as a full dimensionator. In theory. Ratchet (and most of his friends) would bet any amount of bolts you would care to lose that Nick and Al were already looking for ways to beat that restriction.

Reg had a good sense of the appropriate, and a keen grasp of history. "Very well, Mister Gaiden," was his equally formal reply. Glancing over at Rich, he nodded.

Rich nodded in reply, and placed his hand over the activation controls of the dimensionator. The device opened, with various bits extending from it, and a wormhole opened in front of Reg. Through the circle of energy, Ratchet could make out a small group of people waiting in the mayor's office in the city of Metropolis on Kerwan.

Sasha was the first to step through the gate, followed immediately by two members of the Galactic Rangers. Ratchet recognized the markings on one of them - it was H22! He and H22 had fought together against Doctor Nefarious in the Biobliterator War, but he had not seen the robot in quite some time. Maybe they would have a chance to catch up.

"Mayor Phyronix," Reg stated, bowing slightly to greet the cazar. "Would you please introduce me to your escort?"

Sasha's eyes opened a little wide at the obvious contradiction between Reg's formal tone and his ripped jeans and biker's vest. Still, it would take a lot more than that to surprise a seasoned diplomat like herself, especially when dealing with lombaxes. Bowing slightly in response, she motioned to each of the Rangers in turn. "This is H22, a close personal friend and a hero of the Biobliterator War..."

Hero? Ratchet thought to himself. If the Galactic Rangers were known for anything, it was their retreat tactics. Still, when it came down to it, the Rangers were a good bunch. Just that they had their self-preservation programs prioritized a little too high...

"And his counterpart, J19," Sasha said, indicating the other ranger.

"Welcome to our homeworld," Reg said. "To make things easier for you, and to help you navigate the city, a guide has been selected for you."

Spiff took this as his cue. Rising from the table, he announced, "Minister Ratchet Neutrino."

Ratchet broke away from the small cluster of lombaxes (and friends), and moved to greet the arrivals. "Hi," he said. He knew that his lack of formality would probably annoy Spiff, but it seemed right for the occasion.

"Hi, Ratchet," Sasha replied. "You're looking well. Married life suits you!"

Ratchet could feel himself blushing under his fur at the comment, but she was right. After all, Sasha was the first to congratulate them, even though he and Talwyn didn't know it at the time.

"Thanks!" Ratchet said easily, a smile on his muzzle. He looked over to the Rangers, offering his hand in greeting. "H22! I haven't seen ya fer a while. How've ya been?"

"I am very well, Minister Neutrino," H22 replied, ignoring the outstretched hand. There was a certain flatness to his tone - not quite cold, but certainly not what Ratchet was expecting. "It is an honor to have been selected as escort for Ms. Phyronix."

"Yeah," Ratchet replied, unsure of what to make of the situation. He and H22 had fought together; did something happen that he didn't know about? Turning to the other ranger, he tried to recover something from the awkward meeting. "J19? I don't think we met?"

"No, Minister, we did not." J19's tone was a bit warmer, more eager. Much more of what Ratchet had been expecting. "But I hope we will see a lot of each other during our stay."

"Sure," Ratchet said. He turned back to Sasha. "If ya want, ya can stay with me, Talwyn, 'n Clank. It might be tight, but..."

"That will not be necessary, Minister," H22 interrupted.

J19 took over, glaring at the other Ranger with his optics flaring brightly. "From what we were told, Ratchet, there are a number of houses that have been set aside for the visitors. Part of our function here is to act as ambassadors to your other guests. By staying with them, we will be able to carry out that duty more effectively."

Sasha sighed. "Yeah, good point, J19. I forgot." Looking over at Ratchet, she shrugged apologetically at the lombax. "Dad's idea."

"That's okay," Ratchet said. He had been hoping that Sasha could stay with him and Talwyn for a while, but this would work out too. "Stop by anytime. The code's..."

"Pi something, right?" Sasha asked, chuckling.

Ratchet nodded. "Yeah. Pi equals three dot one four infinity six."

"I remember," Sasha said. "I think that's what it was last time I was here. You really should change it occasionally..."

"I know, I know," Ratchet muttered. "But I remember this one..."

There was a slight flare of energy from the wormhole as Big Al stepped through. He still had the bionic left hand, but the injuries to his face and eye from his days on the Vox Network had been reconstructed. Ratchet knew that Al, Nicholas, Nichole and Reg had spent a lot of time working with the Center for Advanced Lombax Research, using Doc Tesseract's notes as a starting point. The semi-organic implants the engineer now used were barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for. Unlike Reg's left ear, though, Al had chosen not to have a scar for 'aesthetic reasons'.

After he arrived, two similar beings walked through the portal as well. While they were all different, any organic could easily detect the family resemblance.

Reg stepped forward and shook Al's organic hand. "Welcome. Al, would you please introduce your guests?"

"Sure," Al replied. "This is my brother, Bob, and my sister Edwina."

"Ed," Al's sister corrected.

"A pleasure to meet you both in person," Reg said, shaking each siblings hand in turn. Reg had recognized them both from Ratchet's BetaTex playback, but they would not have realized that. "Ratchet told me a little about you."

Bob glanced at the lombax. "Hopefully something good," he said jokingly.

"Be nice," Eddie said, punching her older brother.

"We have an escort for you, to help show you around the city and be your guide..."

Spiff stood and called, "Nicholas Neutrino."

Nick strode forward and, with his ears perked and an eager expression on his face, shook Al's hand confidently. He had not uttered a single syllable. After a few moments, he turned to Bob. "Hey," he said, offering his hand. "Call me Nick."

Edwina, however, had been craning her neck, studying the assembled volunteers, and had spied a different escort. "There you are, cutie!" she called, her accent seeming to echo in the room. "How's that Hydro-Pack been workin' out fer ya?"

Clank moved forward from Talwyn's side. "Very well, thank you," he replied. "It has been useful on any number of occasions." Clank glanced over at Ratchet, and the tip of his antenna was glowing. "Sadly, I suspect that it will require a service appointment in the near future."

"Well," Eddie said, "that's somethin' I reckon I ken look at while's I's here. Why don'tcha come with me? Y'all can show me around, and I'll take care a you in return."

Ratchet felt as though was going to burst trying to hold the laughter in. Edwina seemed to have a crush on Clank from the first time they had met, and his friend was certainly playing along. The lombax just hoped that Venus didn't find out!

There was another flare of energy from the wormhole. A rather ancient reptilian creature, with traces of a white beard and eyebrows stepped through. While once strong and fit, the years had not treated the Gadgetron CEO very well. He seemed to be moving a little slower than Ratchet remembered, and seemed to be in a bit of pain as he moved. But his golden eyes were still very sharp and attentive as he surveyed his surroundings careful, nodding to Ratchet and to Clank in turn. Ratchet could almost see the old master from Kalebo III calculating how to capture this new market.

What really surprised Ratchet, though, was the fact that he recognized one of the other lombaxes in the room. "Zeke?" the old reptile called out. "Is that really you, you old fuzzball?"

"Master Centauri," Zeke replied, coming over to shake the CEO's hand warmly. "It's been a while."

"Not master anymore, I'm afraid," the reptile responded. "My nephew Rigel runs the business these days." Zeke grabbed the chair he had been sitting on and placed it for his friend to sit. "He made a ton of bolts in the holovid biz, and reinvested 'em. Took control of my company right from under my nose!" A grin softened his olive green features. "I couldn't've been more proud!"

Ratchet didn't buy it. Centauri was too aware, too calculating. And he knew Rigel from his Holostar days. There was no way that Rigel could have displaced Centauri, unless the CEO wanted it that way. Even if Rigel ran the company in name, Ratchet knew that it was the old master that still made all of the really important decisions.

The wormhole flickered, rippling as the scene inside it changed. At first, it had been focused on the Mayor's office on Kerwan. Now, a completely different destination was visible. It still looked like a rather fancy office, but the furnishings were very different, less formal and more opulent. A portly being with two antennae and a bushy white beard and mustache stepped through.

"Mr. Fizzwidget," Reg said, bowing slightly. "Welcome to New Fastoon."

At the mention of Fizzwidget's name, the conversations died out slightly. Ratchet and Clank both waved to the genial old man that ran Megacorp. There was a hiss of derision from Master Centauri, however. While Megacorp and Gadgetron had not been at open war with each other for decades, there was still a lot of friction between the manufacturers, especially when competing for weapons and armor. For his own part, Abercrombie Fizzwidget did not let his discomfort show in the slightest. He merely ran his hands along the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling slightly.

"Hello again, Centauri," he said in a wary tone. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Fizzwidget," Centauri said, emphasizing the name with a slight hiss. "So nice to see you again. It's been a while." The reptilian CEO (well, former CEO) of Gadgetron grasped at the edges of his hard leather tunic.

Reg looked between the two CEOs, somewhat wary of the situation. He raised his hand and gestured. Colonel Ember Caliber, his body surrounded with a shimmering sensory distortion force field, quietly approached. The retired colonel shook Fizzwidget's hand, and then handed him a headset with a small microphone. Following Ember's mimed instructions, Abercrombie put it on. His blue eyes opened wide and he met the eyes of the lombax in front of him as Ember silently explained his medical condition, and the methods he was using to communicate while still being able to remain in such a noisy environment.

The two moved across the room, as far from the Gadgetron CEO as they could get. But as the pair passed Ratchet, Abercrombie stopped. "Sorry, my boy, but Doctor Cross and her husband could not make it. She's expecting their third child, and was worried about dimensional travel hurting the infant."

Actually, Ratchet was rather relieved that Angela could not come. He had ended that relationship years ago, and really did not need to reopen that chapter of his life. Plus, having Angela, Sasha, and Talwyn on planet at the same time was a potentially volatile mix. "That's okay, Mr. Fizzwidget, sir," he said.

The portal shifted to a new target once again. This time, it seemed to settle on what looked like a large biological laboratory. From the vantage of the wormhole, the guests could see that they were on some kind of platform above a large holding area. Rows and rows of tanks, all filled with a blue-green solution, filled the floor below them. There was something oddly unsettling about the tanks; every now and then, Ratchet thought he saw something squirming and sloshing inside one.

A grummel stepped through the wormhole. The froglike creature seemed somehow different from the types of grummels that Ratchet had met before, though. The lombax knew the weapons grummel well, and had spent a lot of time dealing with the items grummel too. Of course, the lombax had been fitted with armor by the tailor grummel more times than he wanted to think about. But this one... seemed... strange... having characteristics of all three at the same time.

Conversations stopped once again. "Grummel Prime," Reg said, bowing slightly. "Welcome to New Fastoon."

Ratchet was not quite sure what to expect. What he got, though, was a strange mixture of all three personalities, alternating in an unstable trinity. "It is so _great_ to be here! We's impressed wit' what you's got. So, can we get down to business?" Ratchet felt the fur on his ears and tail start to bristle. The Grummel Prime seemed to be a mixture of all three genetic lines, but the mixture appeared to be unstable and the being potentially insane. The thought of this... entity... running the Polaris weapons and vendor markets made the lombax shudder.

He was not alone. Looking around the room, he could see a few drooped ears and some raised fur on his fellow lombaxes. Fizzwidget and Centauri locked gazes, and then their eyes moved to the newcomer. Meeting each other's stare once more, both nodded simultaneously, as though they had silently negotiated a temporary truce in order to deal with this abomination.

Spiff's voice was carefully neutral, but that slightly vicious grin appeared on his muzzle once more. "Minister Petrov Neutrino," he called.

Petrov's eyes darkened to an ocean blue, and there were hints of grey storms there as well. He moved forward directly behind Spiff. In passing, he quietly muttered "...thanks..."

Spiff's grin grew even wider, but his voice was carefully controlled and emotionless. "Now that we have everyone assembled..."

"Forgive me, Spiff," Reg interrupted. There was a stunned look on the Prime Minister's face as he turned to face the assembled dignitaries and their escorts. "There is one more invitation that was returned at the last moment." Spiff looked shocked. He dove back into his notes to verify what had happened, and where the problem was. "Relax," Reg continued. "This was a personal invitation. I really didn't expect them to show up, but they just texted over my comm link." The prime minister looked over at Rich. "You can shut that down. They'll arrive under their own power."

Rich looked almost as puzzled as Spiff did. He knew the defenses around the council chamber above them, and this reception hall was almost equally secure. But the lombax complied, shutting down the wormhole and letting the domed control of the dimensionator go dark.

After the wormhole faded, a faint point of blue light appeared in the air in front of Reg. This grew in intensity until it became bright enough to illuminate the entire room and cast faint shadows on the ground radially outward from where everyone stood (or sat). There was a sudden flash, and then the source of the illumination became clear: a small decorative lantern, similar to the kind that Nicholas used for dinner parties except glowing with blue light instead of white. It had appeared in the room and was hovering in the air in front of Reg, as though waiting for something.

Reg bowed slightly toward the lantern, and then addressed the waiting crowd. "May I present the Ambassador from Saphria."

* * *

Ratchet's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped open and his ears perked in both shock and curiosity. He glanced towards Talwyn, and saw that she was staring back at him, equally astounded. Saphria. The most beautiful place the lombax had ever seen. And the most mysterious. He and Talwyn had been there a few times since they bonded, and their friends had visited more times than he could remember. The caretakers of the resort world were renowned for their hospitality, but none of them had ever seen or directly spoken with a Saphrian before.

There was one line of speculation that hypothesized that Saphrians were hideous creatures, hiding in the shadows, afraid to show their deformed features to their visitors. Another theory claimed that they were intensely xenophobic, and used the resort to slowly build up their confidence with visiting species. In any case, having a Saphrian presence in the same room was quite a shock.

Still, it was equally obvious that the lantern itself was not a Saphrian. It was probably some kind of communication device or avatar, not the living entity. Ratchet's suspicions were confirmed when the lantern projected a written message in glowing lombax characters: "Greetings. It is indeed an honor to be among you on this happy occasion."

After about a minute, the message faded. Several beams of light simultaneously emerged from the lantern, projecting smaller, more personal messages in front of many people in the room. Ratchet looked down at the message in front of him. "It's nice to meet you again. I hope we'll have a chance to talk later. In the meantime, please relax and don't be concerned." The confused lombax had to read the message twice: meet _again_? concerned about what? _talk?_

Talwyn began moving across the room. She stopped in front of her mate, and gave him a somewhat nervous kiss. There was an ever so slight trace of fear in her eyes, but they were filled with a burning curiosity that Ratchet could immediately relate to. Talwyn quietly muttered, "Don't wait up," and then moved to stand next to Reg.

"The ambassador has informed me that, uh..., I guess 'he', has invited a guest," Reg said. "According to the note, this guest contacted Saphria using technology he discovered in an archeological dig on his homeworld. Their species is still planetbound, so he has never been offworld before. This is a first contact situation, and the ambassador specifically requested for Talwyn to be his guide during his stay."

Ratchet suddenly realized why Talwyn was willing to play along with this. The chance of finding out more about the Saphrians was certainly a good enough reason to begin with, especially with her thorntree research repeatedly indicating that Saphria was significant somehow. But escorting this visitor, an archeologist on his first offworld adventure, promised to be a lot of fun! While he was worried about Talwyn and the potential danger she might be in from a first contact, Ratchet still felt more than a little jealous...

Reg continued his introduction. "The Saphrian Ambassador thinks that this planet might become allies in the future, and that we may have a lot to offer each other someday."

Another beam of blue light extended from the lantern. But this one was different from the first; it was not a solid illumination forming letters in mid-air. Instead, this projection seemed smoky, with wisps of blue energy moving and twisting through a matrix of twilight darkness. Eventually, the filaments of light coalesced into a shape - the rough outline of a bipedal creature. The glow diminished and a being faded into existence. It was a bit taller than Ratchet, somewhat average when compared to the other beings in the room. Bipedal, it was covered with wiry tan fur, a bit bushier and thicker at the top of its head. It had a somewhat elongated muzzle, more pronounced than in a lombax, with a large dark brown nose. It did not seem to have a tail. Its ears were small and round, perched at the sides of its head, and its brown eyes seemed somewhat soft and friendly. The creature was wearing work boots, brown jeans held up with a leather belt, a long sleeved white safari shirt, and gloves. It did not appear to be armed. It blinked, and began looking around, somewhat confused. It was also lightly dusted in dried dirt from head to toe.

Another projected sign in perfect lombax characters read, "Allow me to present Rue of Alanova." A much smaller sign appeared in front of the creature. Even though the characters on it were not lombax, Ratchet seemed to remember seeing that style of writing before, but he could not immediately place where. Meridian City, maybe? It was similar enough to lombax that he could read it though, and the text seemed far less formal than the larger sign. "Rue, these are the people I told you about. The one in white is Reg Solstice. He's the Prime Minister. The woman next to him is Talwyn Apogee, Max's daughter."

"Hi," Rue said warmly, shaking Reg's offered hand. Considering that this was his first offworld experience, and that he was surrounded by all kinds of weird creatures, machines and, well, strangeness, he seemed remarkably at ease. "I'm Wombat Rue," he said. "And this is..." he turned to look over his shoulder, as though to introduce someone else. Suddenly realizing that he was alone, Rue pulled a polished shovel from his pack, and tried to make the best of the awkward situation. "And this is, uh, my shovel, Valiant."

"Nice to meet you, Rue of Alanova," Reg said in a formal voice, maintaining a level of dignity that defied the creature's shovel, his own ripped jeans and open vest, and the watching eyes boring into them. Gesturing to his right, Reg began, "And may I present your guide, Tal..."

"Talwyn Apogee," Rue replied eagerly, offering his hand to her to shake as well. "I've heard about you, and about your father's work."

Ratchet had never seen anything like it before, and he was certain that Talwyn hadn't either. But the mention of Max Apogee increased the complexity of the riddle even further. Ratchet's ears were twitching with curiosity as he strained to listen in on the conversation.

"Uh," Talwyn began, her own thoughts racing. "Thanks."

"The blue light told me you're a _real_ archeologist," Rue said as he shifted the shovel in his hands. Ratchet, from a distance, suddenly realized that the creature _was_ armed, after a fashion. Rue's grip on the shovel was very familiar to the lombax; he handled his omniwrench in much the same manner. "Later, could you give me some tips? I'm still new at this."

"Sure," Talwyn replied, also noticing the grip that Rue had on the shovel. "And you can tell me about where you're from and how you got here."

Spiff rose to stand behind the table. "I know that it has been a long journey for many of you. We have prepared housing that should suit your needs. If you would kindly move to the teleporter, your guides will bring you to your rooms. Feel free to rest, relax, and enjoy the remainder of the evening. The official festivities begin tomorrow three hours after sunrise."

A teleporter pad materialized in the center of the room. Rue startled slightly in surprise, but the rest of the visitors took this type of technology in stride. One by one, starting with Petrov (who seemed eager to leave the reception hall), the escorts guided their guests to the teleporter and vanished. After Talwyn and Rue had vanished, with Reg and the Saphrian Ambassador just behind them, Sasha leaned over to Ratchet. "What was that all about?" she asked.

"I haven't got a clue," Ratchet replied honestly. "But with the Saphrians involved, who knows." The lombax chuckled slightly, with only a faint trace of nervousness in his voice. "And Talwyn'd be the first t' remind me she can take care of herself. I'm sure she'll tell me later."

* * *

Ratchet remained behind after all of the guests had departed, including Sasha and the Rangers. Sasha had already been to New Fastoon, and had already toured everything worth seeing. She and the Rangers teleported to their quarters, and Ratchet remained behind with Rich Quantum, helping him move crates from the embassy in Polaris to Al's new shop: mostly last minute supplies, inventory, and general parts and equipment that the engineer needed. But the two of them had significantly underestimated the sheer amount of 'stuff' that arrived.

"Ratchet," Rich said, "Stay here with the crates. I'll go to Al's and lock in on you with his freight teleporter. I'll give the override to allow access to this building."

"Sure, Rich," Ratchet answered in a somewhat bored tone.

"It'll only be a minute," Rich answered. The regional minister summoned a teleporter pad with his neural matrix. "See you at Al's," he said, just before he vanished.

"Yeah," Ratchet said, leaning back against one of the crates.

"Hssst!"

The sudden noise made Ratchet sit up.

"Hssst! Ratchet!"

The lombax knew the voice. "Slim?"

Slim Cognito was a weapons modifier and smuggler that Ratchet frequented while in Solana, Bogon, and even occasionally in Polaris. The somewhat shady underworld character was a genius at taking perfectly legal weapons and making them far more lethal than you could possibly purchase and still walk freely. He was also rarely ever seen, except for his eyes.

The lombax searched through the crates and finally found what he was looking for - a crate with a missing slat. "Slim, what're you doing here?"

Two eyes appeared in the open area of the crate. "I'm tryin' t' talk t' you," he said very quickly. "Look, I don't have much time, and we're gonna teleport soon. I just wanted t' warn you."

"Warn me?" Ratchet interrupted. "Why?"

"Shut up, and listen!" Slim answered very quickly, clearly in a desperate hurry. "Why? Because you're my favorite furball customer. And a very good one at that. Now listen! Something weird's been goin' on. There's a lotta tension between the Big Three, and having all three CEOs in the same room's a recipe for blood!"

Ratchet knew full well that the Big Three (Gadgetron, Megacorp, and GrummelNet) all were fierce competitors, and that they had gone to war with each other before. The last time was decades ago, when Megacorp drove Gadgetron out of the Bogon galaxy and destroyed their manufacturing facilities there.

"It wasn't my idea," Ratchet answered. That was only partially true. The lombaxes wanted to establish trade relationships with all three galaxies he had lived in from his home dimension. That meant dealing with all three companies, at least at some level. And having them all aware that the lombaxes were looking for partners would give them the upper hand in any negotiations that would follow. Ratchet, Reg and Spiff were hoping to start a bidding war between the companies; not the real thing.

"It's not just that, though," Slim continued. "Someone's been ordering stuff. Deadly stuff. The kinda thing even the Big Three won't touch. Don't know who, but it's specialized work. And whoever did it took delivery a few days ago."

"Not a coincidence, I guess," Ratchet mumbled.

"No such thing in this line o' work," Slim answered. "If someone takes out a CEO..."

"Or all of them," Ratchet interrupted grimly. He did not need Slim to continue with that line of speculation. If even one of the CEOs met an unfortunate 'accident' while in Leonid, it would likely trigger open warfare between the companies as the delicate balance between Gadgetron, Megacorp, and GrummelNet was disrupted. Worse - everyone would blame (or credit) the lombaxes with the assassination.

"Yeah," Slim replied. "Watch your tail."

"Thanks, Slim. I owe you."

The eyes narrowed slightly in amusement, and there was a chuckle from the crate. "I'll add it t' your bill."

Ratchet began to laugh, and started to say, "You know I'm good fer it," when there was a sudden flash of light. After his eyes readjusted, he found himself in the darkened storeroom inside Al's shop.

Rich was at the controls of the freight teleporter, looking at him curiously. "Who were you talking to?" he asked.

Ratchet looked at the crate. The eyes were gone, and a wooden slat had been placed against the opening. There was no sign of Slim. "Just a comm link," Ratchet lied. "Nothing to worry about."


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Grand Opening**

Ratchet stayed late at Al's, working with Rich, Nick, Al, Bob, Ed and Clank to get the shop ready for opening the next day. There was still a lot to do: cataloging, arranging workbenches, setting up display, and moving lots and lots of crates. They worked late into the night, snacking on gravity wells and listening to Clank relay audio tracks from the Million Marquee Matrix. All the while, Ratchet carefully examined every crate he touched for any trace of Slim, but did not find any.

By the time they had finished, it was well past midnight. Everyone was tired and somewhat cranky from the exertion. Al had a bedroom in the back of the store, but it was really only large enough for one person. Ratchet and Rich both offered to put the family up for the night, but they politely refused. Al said that it was a tradition they had for every branch opening; that all three would stay and sleep in the store the night before. It had brought them luck so far, and none of them wanted to change it. Nicholas agreed, saying that it sounded like a great idea, and offered to keep the vigil with them since he would be the local manager for the Leonid branch. So Eddie took the bed, while Al settled into the task chair, resting his head on the countertop, falling asleep in mere minutes. Bob stretched out on waiting room couch and was soon breathing deeply as well.

Rich, Ratchet and Clank left Al's shop, with Nick locking up the store behind them from the inside. While the main entrance was located inside the support ring of the 'Doom Dome', the maintenance entrance they were using for the grand opening led directly to the exterior. The stars were very clear in the late night sky. Rich stifled a yawn and stretched. "I'd better get going," he said. "Nichole's gonna be mad as it is."

"How is she?" Ratchet asked. Doctor Nichole Neutrino was pregnant with her first kit, and Rich was taking his impending fatherhood very seriously.

"She's okay," Rich replied. "You hear stories, of course. What to expect when your mate's expecting. That kind of thing." The regional minister and local leader of the Lombax Defense Ministry chuckled, shaking his head. "They're all lies!"

Ratchet did a few stretches of his own, especially his back. Those crates were pretty heavy. He laughed quietly in the cool still air. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea..." Rich glanced between Ratchet and Clank, a somewhat guilty look on his face. "Uh, you won't tell anyone, right?"

"You have our word," Clank replied. Ratchet nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Rich began. "I expect normalization and all the standard stuff. I just wasn't ready for the energy. Or the cravings..."

"Cravings? Like what?" Ratchet prodded.

"Like this morning. I found her sitting in front of the open chiller with a jar of nut putty, a bowl of dry Stylus Shavings and a spoon. She'd take a spoonful of putty, smash it into the cereal to get it to stick, and just eat it like that. Ugh!"

Clank chuckled a little and looked up at Ratchet. His friend's snacking habits were really not all that different from Nichole's apparently. But at least Nichole has a physiological reason for it.

"Sounds okay t' me," Ratchet answer with a shrug.

Rich looked at him a little strangely. "You're kidding, right?" he finally muttered.

Ratchet merely smiled in response. Rich shuddered slightly. "I don't wanna know," Rich said, waving his hands as though to brush away the unseemly thought. "Anyway, I have to get home and make sure that she's okay. She'll be at the opening tomorrow."

A teleporter pad materialized in front of them and Rich moved to step onto it. Before he did, though, he turned back to Ratchet and Clank. "By the way, Ratchet," he said, a knowing smirk on his face, "Slim Cognito is hiding out in the recycling canister at Al's. I promised I'd leave him alone as long as he went back t' Solana with Al's family tomorrow."

Ratchet's ears drooped slightly and a guilty look flashed into his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Ratchet," Rich reassured him. "Slim's harmless." The grin faded from Rich's face. "But he's got a point. I've got the entire Region 9 squad on stealth patrol, and I've called in for some re-enforcements if we need them. They'll keep an eye on the CEOs while they're here." He stepped on the pad. "G'night," he said as the scanner arms rose.

"Good night, Rich," Clank called out, raising his hand to wave.

"And thanks!" Ratchet added.

* * *

Ratchet and Clank materialized in the LDM station just outside of his apartment suite. The guard desk was empty, but there was a note left on a display tablet conspicuously propped against of a pile of disposable tabloids, angled to face Ratchet's front door. "Gone Stalking," it simply read.

Ratchet keyed in his combination and the door cycled open. It was dark in the apartment, and the lombax nearly tripped over the cleaning drone that was waiting right by the door. Ratchet moved it out of the way as he and Clank went inside and closed the door behind them. The lombax did not bother turning on the illumination filaments - there was enough starlight coming from the terrace to see what he was doing. That, and there were more than enough pinpoint status indicators from the various devices that were in the apartment to cast faint shadows of their own. Ratchet easily maneuvered through the familiar space.

Talwyn was not there. There was a text message waiting on the holonet: "I'm running late - talking shop. See you tomorrow. Stay out of the junk food. Tal."

"Well, Clank," Ratchet said in a voice that felt too loud for the quietness of the room. "It's just us tonight."

"Indeed," Clank replied. His eyes were shaded slightly violet, as he adjusted his inputs to scan in a wider spectrum. Studying the lombax for a few moments, Clank commented, "You look tired, Ratchet."

"I am tired," Ratchet admitted quietly. The lombax stretched again. "'N stiff. I used t' be able t' throw around crates like that all day." Ratchet paused as he thought about the shifted color of Clank's eyes. "Didja notice anything about the Saphrian 'Ambassador'?" Ratchet asked, his perked ears and twitching tail betraying his curiosity.

"No, Ratchet," Clank replied. Ratchet's tail stopped moving. "I could not detect anything other than the lantern used as a communication device."

"Worth a shot," Ratchet muttered, putting his hand on Clank's shoulder. "Keep looking..."

"I will, Ratchet," Clank reassured him, then paused briefly. "I must confess that I too have developed a keen interest in discovering more about the Saphrian representative." The robot chuckled slightly. "Perhaps I am spending too much time around lombaxes."

Ratchet laughed, the soft tone echoing in the very early morning. "Naaaahhhh," he drawled.

"You should get some rest, Ratchet," Clank forcefully reminded his friend.

"I will, Clank, thanks," Ratchet replied, heading towards the bathroom at the end of the corridor. "Why don't you plug in and grab a recharge too."

"Thank you, Ratchet, I will," Clank answered.

* * *

The midmorning sun had already driven away the chill of night as Ratchet and Clank waited outside the sealed doors of Al's Roboshop - Leonid. The morning had passed uneventfully for the duo. Clank had downloaded as much information as he could about previous interactions between Centauri, Fizzwidget, and the Grummel Prime, a rather difficult task made even harder by the many shifting clandestine alliances and betrayals between them over the year. Ratchet attempted to contact Talwyn via link after sunrise, but after he identified himself, she sleepily muttered "go away" and disconnected. The cleaning drone Ratchet had nearly tripped over continued to follow the lombax around the apartment, with a red fault indicator flashing. Having heard about Nichole's snack habits, and with Talwyn's command about junk food fresh in his mind, the lombax made himself a nut putty, cereal and jam sandwich for breakfast. There was still no deputy at the LDM desk, and the power cell on the display tablet had almost depleted. Ratchet shut it off and placed the tablet on the induction plate to charge.

Ratchet knew he was running a little early for the opening, but waited quietly by the doors looking out over the vast empty plain that made up most of region seven. In the distance, Ratchet could just make out a small series of cliffs and bluffs that dotted the landscape, carved by the fierce winds that sometimes made New Fastoon less than hospitable. Clank stood by his side, examining the various banners and product advertisements that they had posted just a few hours earlier.

Rich and Nichole were the first guests to arrive. Nichole looked rather cheerful, her typical energy bubbling over to levels Ratchet had never seen before. She did not appear visibly pregnant, but she was wearing a loose fitting jade exercise jumpsuit instead of her normal clothing. Her eyes were the color of sunlight in the leaves, and her ears and tail were twitching with nervous energy. "Hi, Ratchet! Hi, Clank!" she called out when she saw them. "So you two were bachelors last night?" She captured Ratchet in a tight hug, held him by the sides at arm's length, looked into Clank's optics and asked, "Did he actually eat anything nutritious?"

"That depends on your definition of..." Clank began when Ratchet interrupted him.

"Yeah. A nut putty 'n Stylus Shavings sandwich. With fruit jam."

Rich's ears drooped, but this just made Nichole even happier. "That sounds wonderful! What kind of jam?" she asked eagerly, glancing back at Rich with an 'I told you so' look.

"Quarterberry."

"Oooo!" Nichole's grin grew even wider. She turned to Rich. "We've gotta pick up some quarterberry jam on the way home tonight. Or, better yet, some fresh berries!"

Ratchet almost felt sorry for Rich, especially since quarterberries were out of season. But given all of the times the lombax had personally put a tracer on his ankle, perhaps he did not feel all _that_ sorry...

Melody and Reg were the next to arrive. Ratchet did not see any sign of the Saphrian ambassador (or his lantern). Crystal was tucked into a hovering carrier - at four months, she was already getting big! Her tuft had not started growing out yet, so her tail looked like a fuzzy bit of yarn peeking out from her red jumper. She was curled into a ball, snoring loudly. They moved forward to join the group.

"Where's Justin?" Ratchet asked after everyone greeted each other. Nichole was staring at Crystal, tickling the fur of her ears ever so slightly. The kit did not wake up, but her ears twitched reflexively trying to dislodge the tormenting hand.

"Justin is spending a few days with Flora," Melody said. "He asked where steak came from. He's almost a year and a half now, so we thought we'd start a little early."

Clank and Ratchet looked at each other slightly confused. Start what?

Reg saw the question in his eyes. "Young lombaxes spend a lot of time with close friends and relatives, experiencing various trades and ways of life. It gives them exposure to other people, and stimulates their curiosity."

"It also helps them find what they want to learn more about," Nichole added. "When I was young, I spent a lot of time with Doc Tesseract. I knew right away that I wanted to go into medicine."

"Yeah," Ratchet answered, nodding. "Makes sense." He looked at Melody. "But Agro? _Justin?_"

"I know," Mel said, shaking her head. "I doubt he'll want to go again. But he asked, so it's better he finds out first hand."

"It might put 'm off leviathan steak fer a while, though." Nick had materialized moments earlier, and had caught enough of the conversation to comment.

"Nick, shouldn't you be inside?" Ratchet asked.

"Nah," Nicholas replied. He stared at the closed doors for a few moments. "It's Al's moment."

Ratchet nodded. He could certainly understand that. It was a major step for the engineer. He looked over to Reg. "Any more on the Saphrian Ambassador?" the lombax asked. Clank looked up eagerly as well.

"Actually, no," Reg replied. He dug for a moment in one of the pockets of his leviathan skin vest, finally pulling out a dark and inert ornamental lantern. "It went dark right after we left the chamber last night."

Ratchet shook his head, not happy with this latest puzzle involving the reclusive species.

"It's okay, Ratchet," Reg said in a matter-of-fact tone, returning the lantern to his pocket. "This is pretty normal when dealing with Saphrians. Since The Flight, I think they sent the lantern three times, and only for big events. That's how we negotiated the treaties and such."

There were a series of rapid arrivals that distracted their attention, and the conversation fell away. Spiff showed up, dressed in his impeccably clean and pressed blue suit, complete with LDM pin. Petrov and the Grummel Prime materialized seconds later. Petrov's eyes were a dark blue, but they did not have that dangerous grey storm color to them, so his ordeal with the grummel couldn't have been as bad as they all feared. Zeke and Centauri appeared, somewhat away from the main group, with Zeke showing off some kind of weapon from his manifestor. From a distance, Ratchet thought it looked like a very old, early model tesla claw; if it was, he knew first hand that it still worked perfectly well. Fizzwidget and Ember teleported in, and Ember Caliber gestured grandly at the dome behind them. Fizzwidget whistled his appreciation, and started talking very fast and very quietly into his headset. Ember smiled, and shook his head a few times. Sasha and H22 materialized next. They were arguing loudly: H22 saying that J19 had developed a serious malfunction, and that the entire group needed to return to Solana immediately; Sasha insisting that she would stay, but H22 and J19 could go; H22 insisting that he was going to stay with her and falling silent.

There was a large distortion in the air, and Zephyr and Cronk materialized. Ratchet had not expected them to attend the grand opening, but they were certainly welcome. He and Clank moved forward to greet them. "Hey! What brings you two here?"

"Hey, Rookies!" Zephyr said to both Ratchet and Clank. "How's things?"

"Everything is proceeding well, thank you," Clank replied.

Cronk was looking through the crowd, but noticing that Talwyn wasn't there added, "Did Talwyn wise up 'n dump yer scruffy pelt?"

Zephyr and Cronk originally had a difficult time with the concept of 'their little Talwyn' growing up and getting married. Especially to a rather anarchic lombax like Ratchet. It was a little rocky when the hulking warbots first discovered the relationship, but they finally accepted it when they realized that Ratchet and Talwyn were really in love, and that it was not just a passing thing. That did not mean that Zephyr and Cronk gave in completely, though. Even now, nearly two years after they officially bonded, the warbots still teased the lombax about it on occasion.

"Maybe," Ratchet joked, searching the plain for any additional teleports. "She's escorting the Alanovan Ambassador."

"The what's-it?" Zephyr asked, his optic brightening as he looked over to Ratchet.

"Some guest o' the Saphrian Ambassador," Ratchet replied. "He's suppose t' be an archeologist..."

"Oh, that explains it," Zephyr answered, extremely amused.

Cronk nodded, his head shaking a little on somewhat loose neck bolts. "They'll be at it fer a while," he said. His tone dropping to a confidential whisper, he added, "When Max used t' meet up with his arch-o buddies, they'd be up all night tellin' tall tales."

"Yup," Zephyr said. "All night lyin' t' each other, drinkin', gamblin', fightin'..."

"Fighting?" Ratchet asked, his voice growing more concerned.

"Slow down young feller," Cronk said. "Talwyn's a good girl. She wouldn't go in fer pickin' fights 'n that kinda thing."

Zephyr nodded. "'N if she did, she'd be the one t' finish 'em anyways!"

Just as he was talking, Talwyn teleported in with the Alanovan Ambassador. She looked exhausted, as though she had not slept at all. Rue, while dressed in the same clothes he had arrived in, had taken the time to get most of the dust and dirt off.

Ratchet opened a comm link via his neural matrix. "Talwyn? Ratchet. How'd it go?" He formed the words silently in his mind, with the matrix passing them over the link. It was a handy trick that they had worked out a while back.

Talwyn looked over at him and smiled tiredly. She did not utter a word, but Ratchet could still 'hear' her response. "Everything's fine, Ratchet. Just a long night. I'll tell you about it later."

"Didja learn anything 'bout the Saphrians, or that guy's homeworld?"

"Not much," Tawyn answered. "But I think there's some kind of link between this guy's planet and the lombaxes."

"What about Saphria?" Ratchet pressed, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Talwyn glared at Ratchet. And even though she was on the other side of the small crowd gathered in front of Al's Roboshop, the chill in her eyes at being interrogated this early in the morning made him realize that he should just let it go.

"I'll tell you later," Talwyn promised. She disconnected the link and began talking to her charge, gesturing towards the dome.

Ratchet glanced at the sky. It was almost time.

A muffled, high pitched chiming sound came from inside the sealed doors of the shop. Everyone turned to watch. The jingling continued for a few seconds and then stopped. After nearly a minute, there was the sound of security bolts being withdrawn and a whirring noise as Al unsealed the doors and pushed them open. A small cluster of antique bells attached to one of the doors chimed as they opened. Al looked out at the gathered lombaxes (and guests). His brother and sister were standing behind him to either side.

"Welcome," he said, a broad grin on his face and his arms spread wide. "Welcome to Al's Roboshop!"

There was a small smattering of applause in the crown. Ratchet, facing the building, was clapping as well. After a few moments, he felt a throbbing pain and a burning sensation in his back, near his left shoulder blade. The lombax fell to his knees, breaking his fall with his hands on the dusty earth below him. Ratchet's face contorted in pain as the throbbing diminished slightly, but the burning intensified.

He knew immediately what had happened. Ratchet raised his head, and shouted a single word through his clenched jaw.

"Sniper!"


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Sniper!**

There was a sudden blur of activity at Ratchet's shouted warning.

Clank moved quickly to Ratchet's side, his optics scanning those around him. Having watched Ratchet and Petrov together in actual battle only once before on Zaurik, the little robot had no concept of how a group of lombaxes would behave under fire. He had always surmised that the individual personalities, idiosyncrasies, and general 'lombax nature' would make coordinated battle difficult, if not impossible. Clank was surprised just how wrong that hypothesis was.

Spiff Gaiden, without a single thought for his appearance or formality, dropped to the ground in a prone position. A sniper rifle manifested in his hands, and the lombax was searching the hillside through the targeting scope.

Reg Solstice dropped the dark lantern that he had been showing to Spiff to the ground. He made a gesture and an orange force field descended over the entire crowd and the area around the shop. He manifested an omega cannon and stood protectively over Spiff, watching for local threats as his brother-in-law scanned the distance.

Rich Quantum manifested a combustor, and move quickly to the open doors to Al's Roboshop. Pushing the engineer and his family back into the shop, he shouted, "All escorts get your charges inside! Now!"

Melody Gaiden-Solstice pulled the hover carrier containing Crystal with her into the building. She was shouting into her comm link and scouting the skies looking for the air cover she was requesting. The noise had awakened Crystal, and the terrified four month old was screaming.

Petrov Neutrino manifested his buzz blade launcher. Turning to the Grummel Prime, he startled slightly when he noticed that the froglike being had already deployed a gold plated Zurkon. With a look back at Ratchet to make sure that he was safe, Petrov physically forced his charge inside the shop, the Zurkon hurling abuse at the retired general as he did so.

Abercrombie Fizzwidget had similarly taken defensive actions. At the first shout of 'sniper', the CEO of Megacorp deployed a shield charger around himself and threw one around Colonel Caliber as well. Talking quickly into his headset, Fizzwidget relayed Ratchet's warning and Rich's order to Ember. Caliber wasted no time and escorted Fizzwidget into the building.

Zeke and Centauri had been laughing over some private joke when the warning came. Centauri deployed a few evil looking decoys, and manifested a rather large, gold plated tesla claw of his own. When Zeke saw the gold weapon, he immediately began to plead with Centauri, asking if it was for sale. They calmly walked to the doorway and vanished inside, loudly haggling price the entire way.

With their escort on the ground wounded, Sasha and H22 stood outside Al's Roboshop. H22 tried to lead the Mayor of Metropolis into the building, going so far as actually grabbing her arm to pull her inside. At his touch, Sasha went frosty, ordering him to release her and to stand his ground. The Galactic Ranger complied, manifesting his phase rifle and taking a position in front of her, shielding her with his own armor plated body.

Talwyn looked back and forth between her charge and Ratchet. Rue had his shovel in his hands and was looking around at the plain with an expertise that indicated years of military training. He gestured back to the building as the only safe cover, but Talwyn explained that they were protected by the force field. Curious, Rue thrust the tip his shovel against the orange shell, sliding against the smooth energy surface. Nodding to Talwyn, the two of them moved to Ratchet. "Are you okay?" she asked her mate, worry in her voice, lifting him slightly to his knees as Rue stood protectively nearby, shovel at the ready.

Zephyr and Cronk took defensive positions flanking Talwyn and the lombax on the ground. "Any durn fool can see he not 'okay', Talwyn!" Zephyr said, weapon in hand as he looked out over the plain, much the same way as the Alanovan was.

"She's jus' worried," Cronk replied. "Her mate bleedin' all over the place like that."

"I'm okay," Ratchet growled. The burning in his back and shoulder was getting worse. He rolled over to his right so that he was sitting on the ground. He reached around and felt the area of his wound. It was tender to the touch, but the burning was far worse. It hurt. A lot. When Ratchet examined his glove, it was wet with his own blood, and shimmered a slight blue tint as the nanotech in his system struggled to repair the damage.

Nicholas stood near the wall of the shop, to the left of the open doors. His was unarmed, his eyes were tightly closed, and his hand was raised in a searching gesture. Nichole, who was standing near, grabbed his arm to pull him inside. "No, sis," he said without opening his eyes.

Nichole shrugged and moved to Ratchet's side. "Let me look at you," she said, fighting her way to get close enough to examine the lombax with the two warbots, Clank, Talwyn, and the Alanovan all standing around him. "It's pretty deep," she said from behind him, probing his back carefully. "What do you feel?"

"Burning," Ratchet gasped. The sensation was getting worse. It was getting hard to concentrate.

The pain was momentarily forgotten as the lombax discovered something else to focus on: a violent flare of orange energy from the force field directly in front of him. A small projectile was trapped floating in the energy barrier merely two cubits from his face.

"Hold still!" Nichole scolded him. "How do you expect me to..."

Zephyr took one look at the round trapped in the field. "Hot shot!" he shouted, gesturing at the projectile.

"What?" Talwyn asked him, glancing at the warbot before moving her eyes to the place he was indicating. The force field continued to crackle angrily around where the glowing projectile was lodged, as though the projectile was somehow trying to overcome the barrier.

"Active rounds," Cronk explained quickly. "Explosive? Atomic? Toxic? Who knows."

"Ya gotta git it outta the furball, NOW!" Zephyr ordered Nichole.

Another violent flare of energy appeared in the force field in front of them. A second slug was trapped very near the first. It, too, was beginning to glow, and the shield crackled and popped loudly, dissipating the energy over a now greater area.

Nichole nodded, her frightened eyes wide and a hue that was more of a dark cyan than green. But her hand was steady as she manifested a phase knife. Sitting down on the ground directly behind Ratchet, she took a deep breath and removed her gloves. Setting the phase knife to a very small and narrow surgical blade, she said, "This is going to hurt."

Ratchet's head jerked as he nodded deeply and deliberately. He was already well aware of that. But it couldn't be worse than the burning he now felt. The lombax was barely conscious as it was.

Nichole looked at Talwyn and Clank in turn. "Hold him steady." Talwyn knelt on Ratchet's right, Clank stood to Ratchet's left. Both held him down at the shoulder and thigh. Nichole started counting down. "Three, two."

Deliberately not waiting for the end of the sequence, Nichole began to cut open the nanotech healed skin and muscles on Ratchet's back. Ratchet barely reacted; the pain of the burning was far worse than the cuts. The wound was merely a few centimeters from his heart as Nichole cut away the new tissue, digging deeper until she saw the projectile. It too was glowing like the ones in the force field, and the muscle and cartilage surrounding it was blackened and charred.

With a quick thought, the phase knife transformed from scalpel to forceps. "Does anyone have a can or jar?"

"You'll need it airtight," Zephyr said. He had been studying the two projectiles trapped in the field. "Looks like they react with air; maybe water."

"Gimme a tick," Cronk said, withdrawing from the group. He returned a few seconds later with a large glass jar. Inside was approximately two centicubits of dark brown viscous liquid. "Use this."

Nichole snatched the jar from Cronk, looking briefly at the thin line of fluid that had been dripped along the inside surface. "Oil?" she asked.

"Yeah," Cronk said, not meeting her eyes. "It'll work."

Clank and Zephyr looked at Cronk horrified. "Is that what I think it is?" Clank asked.

"Yeah."

"I thought ya had a hard time goin' in front o' people," Zephyr said, clearly amused.

"I do," Cronk admitted.

"Cronk, I am rather concerned about the color of the oil specimen," Clank said. "Are you overheating?"

"A little," Cronk said, clearly not wanting to discuss it. "Look, can we talk about this when we're not gittin' shot at?"

As if to prove the point, a third projectile appeared. It was a rather tight grouping, as though fired in a deliberate attempt to shatter the field at the weakened spot. It also proved that the shooter was very good at his job.

"Turn your head away from me, Ratchet," Nichole said. "Don't look."

Ratchet complied and looked over to where Reg and Spiff were standing guard. Reg had been glancing back at Ratchet as all of this was happening, and he nodded slowly, acknowledging that things were going to be okay. The prime minister was unaware that the lantern he had dropped to the ground illuminated again. It rose from the dirt and hovered a step behind Reg, near his biological right ear. It closed in on the prime minister, and there was a minor static discharge from the lantern as it made contact with the sensitive tip of Reg's ear. Reg automatically stepped backward and moved his hand to brush away the irritant when he suddenly stopped. Spiff rolled over in the dirt to look upward at Reg and the lantern, surprise plainly visible on his normally stoic features. The prime minister nodded and said something.

Ratchet closed his eyes through the pain and tried not to scream as Nichole dug into his fresh wound with her forceps. She removed the burning slug and quickly dropped it into the waiting jar. The oil bubbled violently around the projectile for a few heartbeats, and then became inert. "I have to clear the dead tissue, Ratchet. Just a few more seconds..." With the burning gone, Ratchet found that the pain was lessening, even with Nichole digging into his shoulder with the phase knife. "I'm okay," he gasped quietly. "Thanks, Nichole."

Aphelion, Perigee, and two other lombax fighters flew overhead in a tight formation, zipping through the sky in a beautiful flyby. In a well-choreographed maneuver, the sentient ships suddenly climbed steeply and broke formation, scattering in four different directions aligned to the compass points, speeding away in the upper atmosphere.

"Gotcha!" Nicholas exclaimed in an icy voice. He clenched his hand into a fist.

There were three separate, but synchronized explosions. One blast occurred on a rocky ledge at the far end of the plain to their right, at least fifty kilocubits away. Another blast happened among a small mound of rocks, seventy kilocubits to their left. The last was centered underground less than a kilocubit from where they stood, caving rocks and earth inward to fill the sudden void beneath. All three explosions were silent at first, flares of intensely bright light that caused all present, including the robotic lifeforms, to shield their eyes, followed by the sudden roar as a series of shock waves passed them by.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The War Council**

After the shockwaves passed, a stunned silence fell over those still outside the building. All eyes were focused on Nicholas. "What?" he asked, somewhat distantly. His eyes were grey, with only a hint of their normal green shades.

"What did you do?" Nichole asked, her stunned voice oddly flat and emotionless. The front of her jade exercise suit was splattered with Ratchet's blood, and the fur on her hands was stained and dripping. Her dark green eyes were wide and rimmed with tears.

"I opened a teleport between the E-mat converter in the sigma three under the dome and our friend out there." Nick glanced out at the devastation surrounding the underground blast nearest the dome. The grey in his eyes darkened to a green similar to his sister's.

Reg walked over, closely followed by Spiff. The prime minister was shaking his head sadly. Nodding to the force field, he asked, "Can you teleport those into the jar? I want to drop the field."

"Yeah," Nick said, negligently waving his hand in the general direction of where Ratchet was sitting.

The projectiles vanished, and the oil jar in Nichole's hands boiled once again. When the viscous fluid went still, Nichole capped it tightly. Noticing the blood smears on the jar and cap for the first time, she placed the vessel on the ground next to her and pulled her gloves back on. The autoclean systems within the gloves caused them to glow faintly blue around their seams and the cuffs. After the glow faded, she remove them once more. She scratched her now clean hands for a few seconds - electrostatic cleaning fields tend to be itchy. Nichole began gently examining the wound in Ratchet's back. The nanotech in his system had already healed most of the deep damage, but there was some significant surface repair left to do. The lack of any blue glow was a bad sign.

"You're out of nanotech," Nichole said. She retrieved a small bottle of glowing blue fluid from her manifestor. Opening it carefully, she poured it directly into the wound. As she did so, the edges of the raw opening began to draw closed, leaving a barely discernible scar underneath Ratchet's fur. The bottle still had about half of the liquid in it. She passed it to her patient. "Drink this," she told him. "It is a nanotech concentrate."

Ratchet muttered 'thanks', took the bottle and downed the remaining liquid. It didn't taste all that bad, the lombax thought to himself. It reminded him a little of the ultra nanotech from the vending machine on Orxon.

Rich, combustors in each hand, ran out of the door to meet them, closely followed by Petrov, Ember, and Zeke. "I overrode the restrictions on Al's dimensionator glove," he explained quickly. "Took a while, but we got the VIPs home. Al and his folks too. What's the status?"

Reg deactivated the force field with a wave of his hand. Ratchet climbed carefully to his feet. He offered his hand to Nichole to help her up, but she did not acknowledge it. "Nichole?" he asked quietly.

Rich heard Ratchet and looked at his mate. His eyes opened wide, and he started shaking slightly. He looked at Reg, waiting for an answer.

"Things are okay," Reg answered. "She's not hurt. Go."

That was all Rich needed to hear. As soon as he knew things were stable, he ran to Nichole, combustors vanishing along the way. Looking into her eyes, and ignoring the now dried blood on her clothing, he reached down and carefully lifted her from underneath her arms. As soon as she was on her feet, she looked into his eyes, threw her arms around him, and started sobbing. Rich held her tightly to him, stroking her back very gently, rocking slowly back and forth. Someone summoned a teleporter pad; perhaps it was Ratchet, maybe Reg. Rich carefully climbed onto it, guiding Nichole on as well. They vanished in a flash of energy.

"What happened?" Petrov asked, the concern in his voice obvious.

Ratchet was at a loss. To him, it did not seem like a big deal. He shrugged, somewhat painfully. "I dunno..." he started.

"She had to remove a slug from of Ratchet's back," Reg explained quietly. "We were under fire at the time."

Petrov nodded, his ears drooping slightly and his eyes taking on a slightly whitish look to the dark blue that was already there. Nodding, he muttered, "Shock." Taking a deep breath, the let it back out again in an explosive sigh. "The first one's always the worst. Doc use t' say that bein' a field medic was the roughest work he ever did." He looked over to Nicholas, standing somewhat apart from the others as he stared blankly at the oil jar on the ground. Petrov looked into Ratchet's eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"I'm fine," Ratchet replied.

"Alright," Petrov said, putting his hand on the younger lombax's shoulder. Unfortunately, it was Ratchet's sore left shoulder. Ratchet winced in pain, but Petrov did not notice. "We'll talk later."

The retired general walked to Nicholas. Putting his arm around his son's shoulder, Ratchet heard him ask in voice that was barely a whisper, "How ya doin'?"

"Okay, I guess," Nick replied, just as quietly.

"Not easy, is it?" Petrov said.

"That's just it," Nicholas corrected. "It was too easy."

Petrov took a step forward, turned and stared directly into Nick's dark green eyes.

"I just saw it 'n it happened," Nick explained. "I was lookin' for anything... outta place. When I saw movement... I didn't even think about it. There was a flash." Nicholas looked outward at the two pillars of disturbed dust in the distance and the collapsed sinkhole nearby. "I don't remember."

"I understand," Petrov said in a sad, slow voice. "You were under a lot of pressure. It happens." He paused for a moment, letting his son absorb the words. When Nicholas nodded his understanding, Petrov probed quietly, "Didja see what it was?"

Nicholas shook his head. "It was just a blur," he explained. "It moved so fast." Looking out at the dust plumes again, Nick's tail perked up slightly. "Why three?" he asked, his engineering nature getting the better of him when confronted by an unexplained event.

"We'll figure it out," Petrov reassured him. He summoned a teleporter pad. Looking back to Ratchet and Reg, he said in a voice loud enough to carry, "I'm gonna take him home. We'll need t' sync up later." Ratchet and Reg both nodded.

"I'm coming with you," Zeke said. He still held Centauri's prized golden tesla claw in his hands. The trio vanished as the teleport completed.

Ratchet looked around. Sasha and H22 stood silently near the doors to Al's Roboshop. Talwyn and Clank were standing next to him, Zephyr and Cronk maintaining their flanking position, watching for any further hostilities. There was no sign of the Alanovan, or the Saphrian lantern. Spiff was dusting himself off, muttering to himself as he tried to beat the surface dirt out of his suit. Colonel Caliber picked up the jar with the projectiles in it, and was trying to peer through the murky oil.

Reg went to shop door and looked inside. "Melody?" he called. When there was no immediate response, he tried a comm link. "Melody?"

"Oh, good! I'm glad. Is Crystal okay?"

"That's fine. She'll go back to sleep when she's ready. Hmm?"

"No. Just Ratchet."

"A projectile to the shoulder. Nothing permanent. Weird ammo though. We're gonna ..."

"Nick. He opened a teleport into the dome's sigma three."

"It was a brilliant idea, but it atomized any evidence that mighta..."

"No, both o' the twins were in shock. Rich 'n Petrov took 'em home."

"I'll check." Reg turned to Spiff. "How are you doing?"

Spiff looked into Reg's eyes. In his carefully controlled voice, he answered, "I'm fine, thank you. Although I intend to charge the permacleaning bill to the ministry."

Reg grinned. "He's fine," he said over the link.

"I wanna get everyone settled here first. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"I love you, too."

A teleporter pad appeared. Ember Caliber's voice sounded over everyone's comm link at the same time. "I'm going to get these checked out," he 'said', holding up the jar.

"Wait!" Talwyn called out, forgetting that Ember could not hear her. She waved her arm to get his attention and he stopped. "Zephyr, Cronk, go with him."

The two warbots reluctantly lowered their weapons, but did not appear as though they wanted to comply. "Whhhyyyyy?" Zephyr finally drawled tentatively.

"You two know more about ammunition than anyone I know," she explained. "You recognized this stuff; you might be able to figure out where it came from."

Zephyr and Cronk looked at each other. "She's gotta point," Cronk finally said.

Zephyr looked over to Ratchet and Clank. "You rookies keep an eye on 'er," he commanded.

"I promise," Ratchet said, nodding. He grinned slightly, a somewhat dirty smirk. A rather explicit comment came to mind.

Before he could utter it, Zephyr glared at him, gestured towards Colonel Caliber and said, "Remember, lombax, we can always put 'em back in!"

Ratchet took the hint. While the warbots enjoyed joking around about 'their little Tawlyn' and her relationship with Ratchet, she would always be like a daughter to them. The smirk left his face. "I know," he said quietly. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."

"You'd better," Cronk said in a voice that would have been threatening had his head not shifted slightly on his chassis due to the loose neck bolts.

"When're ya gonna fix that?" Zephyr asked. "Yer fallin' apart on the job agin!"

"No, I'm not," Cronk retorted, as the duo walked to the waiting teleport pad, and Ember. "'N you should talk, havin' yer boards needin' reseatin' ev'ry two days!"

"At least my boards still work!" Zephyr responded. "Unlike yer..."

There was a flash of energy as the teleport completed. Ratchet actually envied Ember for a moment; at least he didn't have to listen to the warbots bicker.

"Ratchet," Sasha said. "H22 and I are going back to the guest house." H22 was silent, but stood protectively behind the mayor. "I want to check on J19." She looked at Ratchet, and her voice dropped low. "I'm not going to report what happened here until you give the okay. But Dad will find out soon enough, especially since Centauri is involved." Sasha looked around at the remaining group. "If we can help, let me know." Spiff and Reg both nodded soberly.

Sasha looked back over her shoulder. "Let's go," she said to H22.

"Finally," H22 said, quite unhappily. "My job is to protect you. I can't do that if you won't listen to me."

"You're job," she reminded him sternly, "is to be my _escort_. You will go with me wherever and whenever I choose. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Ms. Phyronix," H22 replied. They teleported away in silence.

At this point, only Ratchet, Clank, Talwyn, Reg and Spiff remained. Talwyn looked inside the dark building. "Has anyone seen Rue?" she asked.

"The Saphrian ambassador teleported him back their cabin when the shield dropped," Reg replied. "He's gonna return him to Alanova tomorrow."

"Oh," Talwyn mumbled, almost disappointed. "He seems like a nice guy. I hope he finds what he's looking for."

Clank's optics brightened, and he looked up at Reg. Nudging Ratchet's leg to get the lombax's attention, Clank asked Reg, "How are you aware of this? And I noticed that you referred to the Saphrian ambassador as 'he'."

"He told me," Reg said. "And, yes, he's male."

"He spoke to you?" Ratchet asked quickly. He remembered the surprised look on Spiff's face and Reg talking...

"Yeah," Reg nodded. "He told me that he'd take care of the Alanovan, that they'd be leaving first thing in the morning." He looked down at Clank. "He also said that you're the key to all of this, and to contact him for help when it's over." Reg laughed skeptically. "He said I'd know when."

"That's it?" Ratchet asked, somewhat unsatisfied by the lack of any real information about the Saphrian ambassador.

"That's more than we have ever heard before," Spiff commented.

"Spiff's right, Ratchet," Reg said. "This is the first time that I know of that a lombax has ever directly spoken with a Saphrian without written notes or call boxes." The prime minister's voice grew pensive. "Maybe they're finally beginning to trust us..."

"Trust us?" Talwyn said, shaking her head. It didn't make sense somehow. "We're already vacationing on their homeworld..."

"What'd he sound like?" Ratchet asked.

Reg looked at the short lombax standing in front of him. "Actually, Ratchet," he said, somewhat amused, "he sounded a lot like you. His voice might have been a little higher, but not by much."

"No hissing? No gurgling? Not mechanical? No offense, Clank."

"None taken, Ratchet," Clank said in an amused voice. "Synthesized speech does have a somewhat unique characteristic."

"No," Reg said. "He sounded like you or me." His expression turned very grim. Reg turned to Spiff. "We're gonna need t' get the council together. Soon."

Spiff nodded. "I know," he said. In a very serious voice, he continued. "You will need to be there too. We're going to have to decide how we want to respond."

"Respond?" Clank asked. "In what manner?"

Spiff, despite being in his dress suit, fell to one knee to be eye level with Clank as he answered. "No matter how we look at this," Spiff began, "the situation is serious." He took a deep breath and continued. "Either someone launched an assassination attempt on a foreign visitor, or someone launched an assassination on the Lombax Prime Minister and members of the Lombax Central Council."

Reg stated in a sad voice, "This attack was defeated, but we don't know who was involved, if there was more than one, or why." He looked out over the plain. "There might be more to come."

"In any case," Spiff said, his voice carefully controlled. "This could be considered an act of war."

* * *

Ratchet stood next to the window, his eyes peering through the sunlight streaming through the permasealed glass. War. The word weighed heavily on his mind. It didn't fit. Something felt very wrong.

The lombax waited in the strangely hushed council chamber. Around the great thorntree wood table, the other ministers had already arrived. Each was quiet with his or her own thoughts, and conversation was both brief and muted.

Reg and Spiff had teleported here directly from Al's shop. Talwyn had gone back to the apartment, 'to transcribe notes about Rue and his planet' she claimed. Ratchet had checked Al's shop to make everything was in good order before locking the doors behind him. He and Clank then teleported to the guard station outside of the chamber.

As the lombax checked in his manifestor as all ministers were required to do, Deputy Douglas Jetstream greeted him nervously. The normally relaxed deputy was very quick minded: he realized something bad was going on for the council and the Prime Minister to show up unannounced for what was obviously an emergency meeting. Combined with the unusual circumstances (Spiff's dirty suit, the silence of the ministers, Ratchet's cut and bloody shirt, etc.), Doug knew that something serious was happening, and like any member of his species, he was bursting with curiosity to know what it was. Not that he would be able to do anything about it, but at least he would _know_.

At least he would know, Ratchet thought. That was uppermost on all of their minds - to know what had happened and why.

"First thing..." Petrov's voice smashed the silence and got Ratchet's immediate attention. The general had a commanding presence when he wanted to use it. Ratchet returned to his seat on Petrov's left. "First thing is: Spiff, sit down!" Petrov gestured to the chair on his right.

Spiff's muzzle broke into a very small, sarcastic smile. "I am not on the council," he said.

Technically, that was true. Spiff was still enjoying his one year minimum parole before he could be drafted again. It was a parole in name only, though. Spiff still attended all of the meetings and still was the administrative voice behind the LCC. But he stubbornly refused to sit at the council table; instead he brought in a small stool for himself and sat behind Petrov's right.

"Si'down!" Petrov roared, pushing the chair back for Spiff to sit.

"Please, Spiff," Reg said, standing behind the pair.

Spiff looked at Petrov's grim expression and Reg's earnest one. He nodded. "Very well," he nodded, giving in to their demand. "But only under protest."

"Duly noted," Petrov mumbled. "Reg, can you give a rundown of what happened this morning?"

Reg proceeded to tell the events surrounding the grand opening. He did not leave out any details, and was interrupted more than a few times as various councilors ask questions or looked for clarification on something. After Reg was done, Petrov asked Spiff to present what he saw, adding to the account. Next Petrov asked Ratchet to relate the events from his perspective, and then Clank was asked as well.

After all of the lombaxes (and robot) that were present gave their eyewitness testimony, and the other councilors had a chance to ask questions, the general debate began.

"Colonel Caliber gave a preliminary report on the ammunition," Petrov announced, reading from his display tablet. "It was a phosphorus outer casing surrounding a thermite core." Putting the tablet down, he sought Ratchet's eyes. His own were rimmed with a trace of twilight. Ratchet shuddered slightly. To see _Petrov_ afraid was a bad sign.

"You're lucky Nicki got it outta you in time," Petrov said, more to Ratchet but still loud enough to be heard around the table. "The phosphorus was intended t' burn through the casing 'n ignite the thermite. If that had happened..."

"There wouldn't've been anything left but ashes," Ratchet finished for the general. He knew enough about munitions to know what to expect. Sighing deeply, he said, "Remind me t' pick up something nice fer Nichole next time I see her."

"Who would make something like that?" Doctor Phage asked from his place three to the left of Ratchet's. "Why?"

"To answer 'who'," Petrov began, "no one. There's not a single manufacturer that sells ammunition like that. It is not available in Solana, Bogon, or Polaris. I've never seen it in Leonid, either. As t' 'why'..."

"I suspect it was to destroy the evidence," Spiff said. "What better way to eliminate all traces of your target than incineration?"

"Other than atomization..." one of the other ministers mumbled, too quietly to identify the speaker.

"As for that," Petrov said, changing the subject. "My son Nicholas destroyed the attacker using a matter / energy converter. There was no evidence left behind." Petrov looked at the display tablet, hiding his eyes. "He didn't mean it," he mumbled.

Ratchet felt he needed to say something in Nicholas' defense. "He saved us all," he said. "If he didn't get the attacker, who knows how long the shield woulda held."

Reg nodded. "True." He put his hand on Petrov's shoulder. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," Petrov said gruffly. His eyes were moist. "He'll be fine."

"You can't protect them forever," Reg said in an understanding voice.

"I know..."

"If I may," Clank asked, standing quietly behind Ratchet's chair. While Ratchet still wore the backpack harness that Clank rode on most of the time, his shoulder and back was still a bit painful from the sniper attack, and Clank's added weight would have been pressing right on top of the wound.

"Go ahead, Clank," Petrov prompted. He chuckled slightly, a rather welcome sound given the emotion of the day. Gesturing grandly to Spiff, he said, "We're letting everyone at the table today."

"Go frack yourself," Spiff muttered, so low that only those sitting closest to him could hear it.

Petrov's grin widened slightly. "I still owe ya fer stickin' me with The Grummel Prime."

Reg shook his head. "Why do you insist on antagonizing each other?"

Spiff and Petrov looked at each other for a few moments, and then Petrov responded, "Everyone needs a hobby..."

"Clank, you were about to say..." Reg said, looking at the robot and desperate to change the subject.

"Thank you, Reg," Clank replied. Ratchet scooted to one side in the oversized thorntree wood chair as Clank climbed onto the armrest.

"If I may," Clank began, "I have been replaying the events of the morning in my memory, and there are a few details that I would like to emphasize.

"One: There were three matter / energy conversion events in the area surrounding Al's Roboshop. Nicholas Neutrino, acting on reflex, only engaged one teleport. This implies that there was already a standing teleport pathway between the target and two other locations.

"Two: Nicholas stated that 'he only saw a blur'. It is quite likely that this was a single entity, moving very quickly between the three locations.

"Three: This implies a single attacker, using a localized, pre-programmed teleportation network, allowing the attacker to appear to be in multiple locations simultaneously."

Ratchet, staring up at Clank, nodded at each point. This made a lot of sense.

"Four: The technology necessary to implement such a teleportation network is common to all four known galaxies represented during the event."

"Known?" Ratchet asked.

"I am unaware of the location of Alanova," Clank replied. "Five: All known projectiles, regardless of their source, were targeted at, or in the general vicinity of, Ratchet."

"What?" Ratchet broke in.

"It's true, Ratchet," Reg said. "The only projectiles we found were either in you, or in that grouping near your head."

"Who'd want to kill Ratchet?" Doctor Phage asked.

Ratchet, Clank, Reg, and Petrov all started laughing; even Spiff broke into a grin. Ratchet grinned at Ambrose Phage, tilting his head to one side and trying to look innocent. It didn't work.

"Nevermind," Phage mumbled.

"Even if Ratchet was the target," Spiff said, "it does not change the facts. This was still an assassination attempt on our homeworld against a member of the lombax government."

"Such as it is..." Ratchet mumbled.

Spiff just glared at him. "Never the less, this is still, by definition, an act of war."

"No."

Ratchet couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his chair, being careful not to knock Clank off the armrest.

"It was _not_ an act of war," Ratchet said. Saying it out loud, and repeating it, Ratchet felt more and more convinced that he was right. "What if it was personal? It wouldn't be the first time someone took a whack at me? Just because I was here's not the point."

"What _is_ the point, Ratchet?" Spiff said flatly.

Ratchet looked at him. And then the lombax studied the faces around the table. He could immediately see that Spiff, Clank, Doctor Phage, and Reg were in agreement with him and wanted to end the debate as quickly as possible, before things got out of hand. While the lombax wasn't sure why, he knew he had allies in his theory.

"The point is that we can't do anything yet. We don't know enough. We shouldn't get all worked up over this." Spiff nodded ever so slightly, encouraging him to go further. Petrov, however, was starting at him in surprise. There was no grey in his eyes yet, but Ratchet knew that was just a matter of time.

"If it was just one shooter, fine - it's over. If there's more than one... Anything we do'll tip 'em off. They'll know we're onto 'em." Ratchet took a deep breath. "We need t' know more. The CEOs 'r back in their galaxies, the Saphrian and Alanovan 'll leave tomorrow. Sasha and H22 'll leave whenever we ask 'em."

"What I believe Ratchet is trying to say," Clank interrupted, "is that we should discretely increase security around our few remaining guests, but take no other actions. We should then monitor the situation, and adjust our plans if warranted."

"Right, Clank," Ratchet agreed, grateful that Clank could sum his thoughts up a bit more coherently than he could.

There was silence for a few moments. "I'll agree under one condition," Petrov said. Looking into Ratchet's eyes, Petrov smiled (a little viciously) and his eyes had a bit of a mischievous twinkle in them. But they were a lighter blue than they were before - without any hint of the angry grey that Ratchet had expected.

"Not tracers," Ratchet muttered.

"Not tracers," Petrov agreed. "But increased guards around you too."

"Done," Ratchet agreed quickly. He knew most of the guards assigned to him anyway. It would not be that big of a deal. A nasty thought crossed his mind. "Maybe all of the ministers should..."

"No." Everyone around the table said it at the same time. So much for that idea.

"So there we have it," Petrov said, in his loud, commanding voice. "We'll increase the guards on all remaining targets, including Tiny here." He gestured to Ratchet.

Tiny. Petrov hadn't used that nickname in a while, Ratchet thought. Probably saving it for a special occasion.

"We'll wait 'n see what happens. But we'll reconvene the war council if there's another attack. All in favor?"

There was unanimous assent around the table, including Reg. Clank and Spiff, not being officially on the council, did not vote.

"Unanimous and ratified by the Prime Minister. Approved. Thank you. Now, go home!"


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Between Worlds**

"It doesn't make sense," Ratchet muttered yet again.

"Of course it doesn't make sense," Talwyn replied, her tone somewhat annoyed. "Especially when you've been sitting there for over an hour, and you still haven't explained what 'it' is..."

The lombax looked up from the display tablet he had been starting at blankly. They were sitting at the dining room table in the kitchenette. Talwyn had been writing entries in her notebook when he and Clank materialized in the Nebula Complex. Deputy Tim Resonance was on duty at the LDM station outside the apartment. After a quick greeting, Ratchet went inside, retrieved a large mug of ultra strength sludge, sat down across from Talwyn, and reviewed the various reports from the day. Ballistics. Materials. Communications logs. It just didn't make sense. Clank was in the living area, searching the holonet for news articles via transD.

Ratchet put the barely touched cup of cold sludge back on the table. Looking up at Talwyn, he explained. "It," he began. "The attack. Why would anyone wanna risk intergalactic war?"

"Interdimensional, technically," Talwyn corrected.

"You know what I mean," Ratchet bristled.

"Let's walk through it," Talwyn said, putting a placemark in her notes. "Who could the potential targets be?"

"Fizzwidget," Ratchet replied, counting them off. "Centauri. The grummel."

"You," Talwyn added.

"Yeah," Ratchet nodded. "And Reg, I guess. I doubt it woulda been the Saphrian or Alanovan, since no one knew they'd be here."

"Okay," Talwyn said. "What do most of these have in common?"

"The CEOs run the weapons 'n armor businesses in their galaxies." Ratchet shrugged. "Nothin' we don't already know."

"But why were they here to start with?" Talwyn asked, leaning forward and putting her own notebook down.

"Al's grand opening," Ratchet said. "So?"

"Al's opening was just the first step, though," Talwyn continued. "Wasn't the council trying to open trade relations?"

"Yeah," Ratchet said.

"Maybe someone sees the lombaxes as a threat," Talwyn said evenly.

That made Ratchet sit up and think. The Big Three, as they were referred to, maintained a delicate balance between themselves. Gadgetron, Megacorp and GrummelNet all had a vested interest in keeping that balance intact. If someone saw the lombaxes as a threat instead of a partner...

"But why attack?" Ratchet asked. "Why a sniper?"

"Trying to take out the competition?" Talwyn offered.

"Perhaps," Clank said from where he sat on the living area couch, "they were hoping to disrupt the current balance in their favor, while eliminating a potential competitor."

"Competitor?" Ratchet said in surprise. "We're just tryin' t' open trade talks."

"He's right, Ratchet," Talwyn said, nodding. "The lombaxes have a reputation as the finest engineers in the known universe." She chuckled for a moment. "I guess they don't know about Stunderwear..."

Ratchet chuckled. That _was_ one of his more spectacular failures, no matter how well they sold on Umbris. "How would that take us outta the mix, though?"

"Isolation," Clank replied. "Either the Lombax Central Council would discontinue trade negotiations unilaterally, or the other galaxies would perceive the lombaxes as having been involved in the assassination. Perhaps both."

"Either way," Talwyn said, "that would set you back years."

Ratchet nodded. "True." He looked at the tablet in front of him once again. "The weapons teams at The Academy and the CALR think the slugs came from Solana, but can't prove it."

"Why do they think that, Ratchet?" Clank asked.

"The chemicals. They're common in Solana, but pretty rare in Bogon or Polaris."

"Not proof, though," Talwyn admitted. "Just because something's rare doesn't mean it's not available."

"Yeah," Ratchet said. The lombax looked at Talwyn's closed notebook. "What about the Alanovan?" he asked. "What's he like?"

"Oh yeah," Talwyn said. "I forgot to tell you.

"He's pretty harmless," she continued. "Nice guy. Not much of an archeologist. Really just an amateur. He kept asking basic questions: what to look for, how to interpret various maps and charts, stuff like that." Talwyn sighed. "It was late by the time he went to sleep; he just strung up a hammock between the holovid display wall anchor and the doorframe.

"I was going to teleport home, but he wasn't out five minutes before he started having nightmares. Bad ones." Talwyn picked up her notebook, but did not open it. Ratchet could see the compassion in her eyes. "I couldn't leave him like that."

"Why archeology?" Ratchet asked. He knew that Talwyn had been immersed in the field since she was a young child, and that Max had been an archeologist most of his life. It didn't seem like the kind of thing that someone would choose to do later.

"He's looking for something," Talwyn answered. "Treasure. Information." She opened the notebook and looked through for a moment. "Rue said he was trying to rebuild Alanova. It's actually a nation-state, not his planet. But they went through some kind of huge war, leaving the people desperate."

"And he thinks diggin' up old cities 'll help?" Ratchet asked.

"Supposedly," Talwyn answered, nodding. "At least, he thinks so."

Clank looked over from the couch. "Did the Alanovan Ambassador provide any indications on his relationship to Saphria?"

Ratchet's ears perked. Good question! Maybe Clank _was_ hanging around lombaxes too much.

"Not directly," Talwyn said, shaking her head. "I don't think he even realizes what he did.

"Most of what he described from the city he found was pretty routine; a map room with locations of other cities, charts, that kind of thing. But some of the panels he described sounded more like star charts than terrestrial maps. I think whoever built that room may have been a lombax. Or at least knew the lombaxes."

At the mention of lombax, Ratchet immediately met Talwyn's eyes. His ears had perked significantly. Even Clank was staring back at them in surprise. "That is an intriguing hypothesis," he said.

"Rue showed me his notes," Talwyn said. "There was one panel that showed what looked like drawings of a thorntree with the words 'For Brother Moon' written in what looked like an early form of lombax glyphs." She looked at Ratchet hopefully. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Ratchet sighed and shook his head. "You're askin' the wrong 'bax," he admitted.

"Clank?" she called to the robot in the living area.

"Unfortunately, no, Talwyn," he replied, shaking his head. "I have not encountered that reference before. I will watch for it in the future."

"Thanks, Clank," she said. "Anyway, Rue said that when he touched the panel, the room lit up blue, his friends 'froze', and he heard a voice - possibly Saphrian. He said that the voice told him not to worry, and that he'd take Rue to someone that could help him with his search." Talwyn shrugged modestly. "He said the voice told him about my father, and the next thing he knew, Rue was standing on New Fastoon."

"Weird," Ratchet said, somewhat quietly. From the corner of the room, the cleaning drone sprang to life and moved into the kitchenette. "So we've got a random planet..."

"Nation-state, technically," Talwyn corrected, grinning widely with amusement.

Ratchet smiled slightly at Talwyn's game. "Okay. Nation-state. First contact. With lombax writing that contacts Saphria."

There was silence for a few moments. The cleaning drone bumped into Ratchet's left leg.

"Weird," Talwyn said, echoing Ratchet's earlier assessment.

The cleaning drone bumped itself into Ratchet's leg again. Harder. It's fault light was blinking insistently.

"The Saphrian ambassador stated that Rue's species might become future allies," Clank offered.

"From what he told me," Talwyn said, "there's actually a lot of different sentient species on his planet."

The drone bumped Ratchet's leg yet again. The lombax reached down and grabbed it.

"What are you doing?" Talwyn asked.

"This thing's been bugging me all day," Ratchet stated, turning the drone upside down on the table. He looked at the assembly and selected a tool from his manifestor.

"It's been avoiding me all morning," Talwyn said. "Sulking in the corner."

"It prob'bly wants a lombax touch..." Ratchet said, removing the access panel.

As the access panel was lifted away, there was a small popping noise, like the sound of a very small explosion. A cloud of very fine yellow dust scattered around, covering the dining table and spreading through the kitchenette.

"Ratch..." Talwyn gasped. Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling, and she tumbled to the floor.


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Triage**

"Talwyn!" Ratchet shouted. The lombax began coughing, hard. Bits of phlegm mixed with blood flecked his glove. He dropped to the floor trying to catch Talwyn. Even with the yellow dust on her face, Ratchet noticed that her skin looked very pale.

Clank leapt off the couch. "Ratchet?"

"Stay there, Clank," Ratchet said, still coughing, looking at the yellow dust covering the entire area. "Don't come closer!" He knelt next to Talwyn. The lombax noticed that his vision was getting a little funny, as though things at the periphery were getting darker. Gathering his wife to him, Ratchet cradled her against his chest. "It'll be okay," he reassured her quietly.

"Ratchet!" Clank shouted from the living area.

"NO!" Ratchet shouted back. Looking at his glove, he noticed that his manifestor crystal, and all of the other controls on it, were washed out, as though the colors were not as sharp as usual. It didn't matter. The lombax shifted Talwyn's inert weight and touched the largest crystal on the control array. He stroked her hair, and was startled to see strands of it stuck to his moist glove.

"Dispatch."

Ratchet's throat felt congested, as though a grummel clone was growing there. He spat, leaving a bright red bloody patch on the kitchenette floor. "Medical emergency," he finally said.

"Acknowledged. Stand by for medical teleport..."

"Clank," Ratchet said, not looking at his friend, but holding Talwyn close to him. "Tell Rich what happened."

There was a flash of light, and the lombax suddenly found himself in one of the brightly illuminated triage bays of the Region 9 Med Center. Ratchet was feeling dizzy; the room seemed to spin. Blinking his eyes, trying to clear them, he concentrated on Talwyn's face. It was the color of ash. "Hold on," he muttered softly. "Hold on."

The diagnostic bot detached itself from its charging station. In a bored monologue, it began, "Please state the - FRACK!"

Its tone and demeanor changed instantaneously. The antenna at the tip of its conical body began to pulse rapidly.

"Radiological quarantine, triage bay 2! Diagnostic bots 1 and 4 report - stat! Doctor Phage, please report to the Region 9 Med Center."

The lighting in the room shifted. While there was still plenty of light to see, a sign above the doorway to the left illuminated with three coded dots - yellow, yellow, red. The edges of the door sealed, and there was a strange hissing noise as the chamber depressurized slightly, creating a slight vacuum around the doorframe. A pattern of running lights, yellow-yellow-red, chased around the perimeter of the door.

Two additional diagnostic bots teleported into the room. Their optics studied the situation, but they did not immediately act, looking instead to the original bot for instruction.

"Can you understand me?" the original bot asked.

Ratchet nodded, his eyes fixed on Talwyn. He hugged her tightly. She looked so weak and frail. His throat felt as though it was coated with ground glass. "Yes," he managed to croak.

"There is no time. Move away from the female."

Ratchet looked up at the diagnostic bot for the first time. There was a glimmer of recognition in the robot's optics.

"Minister, there is no time. Comply or you will be sedated."

The word 'sedated' managed to get through the fog in Ratchet's brain. He could not allow himself to be rendered unconscious. Talwyn needed him. With an extreme effort of will, Ratchet gently lowered Talwyn to the floor. He did not even try to get up, but merely pushed himself away slightly.

The two other diagnostic bots were in before Ratchet could react. They moved to touch Talwyn's body, and all three vanished in a flash of energy.

Ratchet tried to stand, moving to one knee. Teleporting was not something he had expected, and he needed to find her. She needed him.

"Minister," the diagnostic bot said, speaking quickly. "You have both been exposed to an extremely toxic radioactive substance. Do you understand?"

The words did not register to Ratchet. He merely shook his head slightly. The motion made him dizzy, and he almost lost his balance. He forced himself into a standing position, lurching around unsteadily.

A dim violet ray shot from one of the appendages of the conical robot. Illuminated in this manner, the dust that covered Ratchet's clothing and fur glowed brightly yellow. There were traces of yellow on the floor where Talwyn had been lying as well. "Frack," the diagnostic bot muttered quietly.

Another appendage extended from the robot towards Ratchet, and a fine mist of water mixed with something rust orange sprayed out, coating the lombax, rinsing the surface of his clothing and drenching his exposed fur. The force of the spray, while not highly pressurized, was still enough to make Ratchet stumble backwards by a step.

"Please remove your clothing," the diagnostic bot demanded.

Ratchet didn't understand. His mind was cloudy, his vision blurred, and he was very dizzy. All he knew was that there was a robot spraying him with something. And that robot took Talwyn away! His omniwrench appeared in his hand.

"Oh, for the love o'..." the diagnostic bot mumbled. A tiny appendage near the top plane of its conical body popped open.

Ratchet felt a blast of air and looked down. There was a small dart sticking out of his chest. The dart had a glass vial inside, filled with an electric blue liquid. The fletching of the dart was a matching color.

The lombax had time to look back up at the diagnostic bot with a surprised look on his face. The wrench fell from his numb hand and he fell forward. Ratchet never remembered hitting the floor.

* * *

"Minister Quantum? Clank here."

"There has been another attempt on Ratchet's life."

"A low power explosive, combined with a toxic radioisotope."

"Both Ratchet and Talwyn were severely injured. Ratchet initiated an emergency medical teleport. I believe they are in the Region 9 Med Center."

"I do not have an update on their condition at this time. I am monitoring the situation via the Med Center comm network."

"No. Do not send any deputies into the apartment. It is contaminated. As am I."

"I am in no danger. The isotope used is not hazardous to robotic life."

"I would like to pick up a few things from the apartment before proceeding for decontamination. Given the type and level of contamination, it is likely that both Ratchet and Talwyn will need a few ... 'essentials'."

"Very well. Please seal the apartment and perform the necessary evacuations. When I am ready to report to decontamination, I will contact you."

"Personally, I think that Ratchet would prefer that you _not_ inform the council. At least, not until he has had an opportunity to assess the situation."

"I understand."

* * *

"Yes, RNR9-02. Please proceed."

"Aerosolized uranium isotope. I understand. What was the approximate particle size?"

"Mmm... Indeed. That was certainly intentional."

"Contamination by proximity, direct contact with the skin, and by inhalation. I understand."

"You are correct in your assessment. Ratchet had ingested a dose of 'Cosmic Ray Ban' approximately seventy-two hours prior to the incident."

"Indeed." A brief pause, and a small amount of short lived amusement crept into Clank's voice over the comm link. "It would appear as if his failed experiment with solar wind surfing provided some benefit after all."

"Indeed it is fortunate, especially given his proximity to the source of the contaminant. Had he not already ingested radioexposure medication prior to the incident, he may have terminated. What is the status of Talwyn Apogee?"

"Oh. I understand. No, she did not have the same advanced protection that Ratchet did. What is her prognosis?"

"Very well. That is not surprising given the situation. At least it is highly probably that she will recover. How long is she expected to remain in quarantine?"

"I understand. Will she be allowed visitors in that condition?"

"That may be true. But her guardians will certainly want to be with them, as will I. We are all robotic, so there is no medical risk."

"Oh? That is surprising! When is he expected to be released?"

"Ah. Somehow, I thought that he might require sedation."

"No, there was nothing you could have done differently, RNR9-02. Given the circumstances, I feel that I must apologize for Ratchet as well. I am certain that he was not in his normal mental state."

"I understand. I have already begun gathering replacement clothing and equipment for them both."

"Um, that might be a wise precaution. While I do not believe that Ratchet would harbor a grudge, it is quite likely that he will be disoriented on awakening. He may become violent."

Clank began to chuckle over the link. "The best terminology I have encountered for that predisposition is 'lombax nature'."

* * *

"Ms. Phyronix? Clank. I wanted to inform you that there has been another attempt on Ratchet's life. He is expected to recover, but both he and Talwyn Apogee have been injured."

"A powdered radioisotope, coupled with an explosive charge to aerosolize it."

"They are both expected to recover. Ratchet will likely be released from the Region 9 Med Center within the next few hours. Talwyn will require medical care for approximately two additional days."

"Both will likely require extensive GBD screenings in addition to their regularly scheduled maintenance."

"No, I do not believe that Ratchet will be happy with that either. Even though his last scheduled session was routine, he has been avoiding further maintenance."

"He has had occasional emergency care since then, yes."

"Talwyn will likely remain under radiological quarantine, at least for another 24 hours. As an organic life form, you will not be allowed to visit until the quarantine is lifted."

"I intent to contact Zephyr and Cronk as soon as I am decontaminated. We will remain with them at the med center after that."

"I am fine, thank you. What is the status of J19?"

"Oh. I am sorry to hear that. At least in Solana, he can receive proper maintenance."

"It is actually a rather amusing story. Ratchet had taken radioexposure medication prior to the attack."

"He was attempting to solar wind surf."

"You are correct. It _was_ extremely amusing. Talwyn even asked Aphelion to record the session for later viewing."

"Talwyn has the encrypted recording, but if you ask her after she recovers, she may be willing to provide you with a copy."

"Yes?"

"Indeed. I will relay your message. Although I strongly suspect that what you ask is not possible."

* * *

"Yes, Alphelion?"

"Unfortunately, the information is correct. Ratchet and Talwyn have been injured."

"There is no need for concern. The prognosis for both Ratchet and Talwyn is quite good. Talwyn is being treated, and will likely require medical attention for the next few days. Ratchet is unconscious, but will be released into my custody this afternoon."

"They had to tranquilize Ratchet."

"He became disoriented. I was told that he tried to attack the diagnostic bot when Talwyn was teleported to the adjacent triage bay."

"Indeed so."

"Oh?"

"I will relay the message and have him contact you. It may be some time, however. Even after he regains consciousness, he might not be immediately rational."

"I supposed you are correct. It _would_ be difficult to tell the difference."

* * *

"RNR9-02? Clank. Has there been any change in status?"

"Okay. To confirm, Talwyn is out of the triage center and is in isolation ward 1. And what about Ratchet?"

"Ah. Yes. Just let him sleep there. As long as you do not require use of that triage bay, that is likely the safest place for him."

"I will be proceeding to decontamination momentarily. After that is completed, I will teleport to the med center. It might be best if Ratchet remains unconscious until I arrive."

"Yes, I agree."

* * *

"Rich? Clank. I am ready for decontamination."


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Bedside Matters**

Doctor Ambrose Phage, sometime member of the Lombax Central Council and full time director of the Region 5 Med Center, slowly moved through the dim corridors of the isolation wing deep in the core of the Region 9 building. The rather overweight lombax was a bit distracted, studying the readouts on the display tablet he held as he plodded along. As was typical, most of the rooms were empty. Lombaxes were naturally fast healers, and when augmented with nanotech, overnight stays in the med center were a rarity. It was only the more serious cases that spent more than a few hours under their direct care. Looking up at the door to the left at the end of the hall, Ambrose knew that this would be one of them.

Talwyn Apogee had fared far worse than her mate, Ratchet. Not only didn't she have the radioexposure drugs in her system before contamination, she was also furless - her skin had no buffer to prevent direct absorptive contact with the toxin. Combined with having breathed it in, Ambrose knew that the Markazian was very lucky to be alive. If Ratchet hadn't gotten her to the med center when he did, well, he didn't want to think about it. There were already too many widows and widowers among the surviving lombaxes.

Ambrose looked at the control panel on his left glove and cursed slightly. He had left his house in Region 5 in a hurry when the call came a few hours ago, and he forgot to grab his neural matrix on the way out. It wasn't the first time he had been without it, but it was annoying. The thing was so damned addictive. Phage wrote a brief note on his tablet to get another one from Al when the Roboshop reopened. As it was, the waiting list was months long, but he hoped to ask Ratchet if he could speed things along a bit.

Manually, Phage keyed in a comm address into his glove crystal and opened a link. "Nichole?"

"Amber," Nichole replied back over a tiny audio generator built into Phage's glove. "How are they? And what's with the echo?"

"The echo," Ambrose explained, "is because I forgot my matrix, and comm crystal links give me a headache. Ratchet was released three hours ago. I'm about to check on Talwyn. I thought you'd want to be onlink for that."

"Yes!" Nichole responded. She sounded a bit more like her normal self, but there was still a reluctance or hesitation in her tone. "Thanks for taking care of them for me, Amber."

"No sweat," Phage replied. He moved to the locked keypad flashing yellow-yellow-red next to the door. He began entering a long sequence of coded digits. "People in your condition shouldn't be around radioactive patients." The keypad accepted the combination and the door swung open.

"It's called 'pregnancy', Doctor Phage," Nichole laughed. "You should look it up in your journals someday."

Ambrose looked into the darkened room. There was enough background illumination to see faint shadow in the gloom, but not much more than that. He initially thought he heard a brief scuffling noise, but now the room was silent. In the light from the corridor, Amber could see three robots, Clank and Talwyn's warbot friends, lining the neutronium paneled wall directly facing the bed. All three bots had charging cables connected, and there was activity on the data fibers. Their optics appeared to be offline at the moment, and the tip of Clank's antenna glowed very faintly in the shadows.

Reaching for the control on the doorframe, Ambrose increased the ambient lighting to five percent. It would be enough to see what he was doing, but not enough to disturb his patient.

Not that it mattered. "This is silly," the doctor said out loud.

"What is?" Nichole replied over the link.

"I'm skulking about in the dark, trying not to make any noise, so I don't wake a patient on sleep meds."

"It's nice to see you haven't completely lost your bedside manner," Nichole commented. "Especially after all those years in The Institute."

"I was never all that good at this kind of thing," Ambrose confessed, his voice dropping back so that it would not echo in the claustrophobic room. "I've always been better behind a desk." He walked up to Talwyn and began examining a small metal foil lined bag hanging from the side of the bed.

"Nonesense!" Nichole chided. "You're doing fine."

"Have you talked with Ratchet about the Helix Arc yet?" Phage asked, examining an indicator on the side of the bag, and the tube feeding into it.

"No. I've been waiting for his next appointment. I already mentioned it to Talwyn, and she seemed okay with the idea."

"Damn. There's still cellular fragmentation," Phage said.

Nichole became all business in a heartbeat. "How bad?"

"It's there, but not terrible," Amber replied. "About sixty, maybe seventy milliliters per hour."

"You have to expect that," Nichole said. "There was a lot of damage, and the interstitial fluid has to drain somewhere."

"Yeah," Phage replied, resetting the sensor on the bag to capture fresh data. "But it's still hot. She'll be in quarantine for at least another twelve hours. At least until the last of the isotope is flushed."

"Considering the scans you sent me, that's not bad!" Nichole said. "She's really fought this off."

"It's not for lack of trying," Phage said, lifting the edge of the thin blankets to expose Talwyn's abdomen, and the drainage port implanted there. "After the initial decontamination, she's been on a steady diet of nanotech concentrate and radical stabilizers." Phage verified that the drainage port was functioning properly and the fluid in the tube was clear before covering his patient with the blankets again. Looking at the controls at the top of the bed, the doctor asked, "Do you want me to take another scan?"

"Not yet," Nichole replied. "If the drainage stops as expected, I'll do it myself."

"She'll still need surgery for GBD," Phage said, then suddenly stood still.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?" Nichole asked.

Ambrose looked around the room, trying to see if he could find anything out of place in the dim light. "Nothing," Amber replied, glancing again at the warbots. They did look rather dangerous, even standing there in sleep mode.

"Her GBD is just a few low density rogues," Nichole commented. "Nothing immediate and easily controlled. It can wait until after she recovers."

"Ratchet got off lucky," Ambrose continued, checking Talwyn's skin tone and vital signs. It had been a long time since he treated a Markazian, and he had to concentrate to make sure that all of the values were within normal tolerances for the species.

"Where is he, anyway?" she asked.

"Not sure," Amber answered. "He was released a few hours ago. Clank's here though, so he can't be that far a... SONUVA...!"

"What?" Nichole's voice rose sharply in concern.

Phage exhaled heavily. "I found Ratchet," he sighed.

"Huh?"

"I was going to check the infuser, and I nearly stepped on his tail!" Ambrose explained. "He must've cracked the lock and fell asleep under her bed."

There was a long pause. Ambrose looked down at the tail tuft peeking out from the white sheets draped over the side of Talwyn's bed. He shook his head, intensely amused, and tried to fight off the temptation to step on the tip ever so gently...

"He's not snoring," Nichole stated. It was not a question.

"No."

"He snores almost as bad as my gran Zeke," Nichole said. "He's not asleep; he's been listening to everything we've been saying, thanks to _your_ open link."

Phage groaned. "Okay, Ratchet," Doctor Phage said, and there was a bit of an edge to his voice. "Get out of there so we can have a civilized conversation."

There was a shuffling sound and the tail tuft vanished underneath Talwyn's bed. A very guilty looking Ratchet emerged on the other side. He had several large fluff pups clinging to the fur around his drooped ears. "Hi, Doctor Phage," he said weakly.

"Hello, Ratchet," Phage replied, his muzzle breaking into a slight grin at the site of the dusty minister. "Nichole, you need to have a word with your maintenance drones about proper sweeping protocol."

Ratchet looked at him strangely, puzzled.

"That bad?" Nichole's voice broke in.

"Yeah," Amber answered. "Ratchet, brush your ears. You've got fluff hanging all over you."

Ratchet brushed at his ears with his gloved hands. Bits of fluff slowly fluttered to the floor. "Oh," Ratchet said. "I see whatcha mean."

Doctor Phage had turned back to the infuser. "So you've been listening... Any questions?"

Ratchet stared down at Talwyn, lying still beneath the sheets. "GBD?"

Nichole answered from the open link. "Yes, Ratchet. You have to expect that given the radiation. It is nothing serious. She would not even notice it was there. I'd still recommend filter surgery, but more as a precaution and to get rid of it _before_ it becomes a problem."

"Nichole," Phage broke in, "I'm putting another nanotech concentrate and nutrient vial in the infuser. Everything else looks fine."

"Okay," Nichole answered. "Ratchet, where are you staying tonight?"

A stubborn look crossed the lombax's eyes. "Here," he said firmly.

"Wrong," Nichole answered. "You and Clank are staying at the Neutrino Estate. At least until your apartment is decontaminated. What? Hang on a second..."

There was a pause. Ratchet took the opportunity to move around the bed to stand next to Clank, Zephyr and Cronk.

"Ratchet," Ambrose began. "Talwyn will be kept asleep until a few hours before she's ready to be released. Staying here is pointless."

Ratchet just shook his head.

"Ratchet," Nichole came back on the link. "Rich says that it will be at least a week until your apartment is habitable, closer to two if the hazmat team starts having fun with the job. He wants you to stay with us, too. He says you're too much of a risk to Talwyn staying there."

That was a low blow! Ratchet felt deflated, all of the bluster that he had summoned up gone with a single statement. He could not fault the logic, though. If he was the target for an assassin, anyone near him was in danger too. At least the Neutrino Estate was heavily fortified.

"Besides," Nichole added, "we'd love to have you stay. You've never been to the Estate before, and Talwyn can join you when she's released. After all, you _are_ family."

"What do you think, Clank?" Ratchet asked, turning to the inert looking robot next to him.

Clank's optics did not illuminate, but it was plainly obvious that he had also been listening the entire time. "I believe that it is a good choice, Ratchet. We will need to discuss this latest attack with Minister Quantum anyway." Clank activated his optics, and he looked up at his friend. "Besides, there is also a slightly higher probability that you will rest while at the Estate. You were monitoring Talwyn the entire time you were here."

Amber shook his head and started chuckling quietly to himself. There was a sad, almost bitter tone to his laughter.

"What's the matter, Amber?" Nichole said over the link.

"We've talked about this before, Nichole," Ambrose replied uncomfortably.

"I still think you're wrong by the way; there's someone out there for you, if you'd give them half a chance and not stay walled up inside The Institute..." Nichole commented.

"Not now, _Doctor_," Amber said, stressing the title as a way of ending the conversation.

"Of course," Nichole answered lightly, unoffended. "We can talk about it during your next checkup. Ratchet, Rich and I'll expect you here within the hour. Don't make us send out the deputies to hunt you down again."

There was an audible click as the link disconnected.

* * *

"Ratchet," Ambrose said, "Really, there's nothing more you can do here. Get some rest. That's the best thing you can do for her."

Ratchet nodded sadly. "Thanks, Minister."

"Please, call me Amber. Or at least Ambrose. Minister is..."

Ratchet chuckled grimly. "I know what you mean."

He turned to the warbots. "Zephyr, Cronk. Is it okay with you?"

Ambrose startled slightly, seeing the warbots he thought were sleeping activate so quickly. He'd really have to pay more attention in the future.

"Yeah, rookie," Zephyr answered. "They're right."

"Besides," Cronk added, "you need rest too."

They were silent for a moment. Cronk finally said, "We'll be keepin' watch, if it makes ya feel better."

"That's jus' what he wanted t' hear," Zephyr retorted. "That a couple a' rust buckets like us're watchin' over her."

"I'd trust you guys with my life," Ratchet said seriously. Looking back to Talwyn, asleep in the bed, infuser cuff around her arm, he added, "I am."

"Don't worry, young'un," Zephyr said. "Nothin'll get in 'r out without our say so."

"Uh," Doctor Phage interrupted. "I've still got to check on her a few more times tonight."

Zephyr and Cronk looked at each other, turned to the doctor in unison and drawled, "Maybe..."

"We should be going, Ratchet," Clank said.

"I know," Ratchet replied. Walking over to the bed, he removed his glove and with his bare hand stroked the top of her now hairless scalp, lightly kissed the pointy tip of her right ear. She did not stir. "I'll be back soon," he said.

Without looking back, Ratchet walked to the door, putting on his glove as he went. Clank hurried to catch up to him.


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: The Neutrino Estate**

Ratchet stood outside the Region 9 Med Center, staring uncomfortably into the street as the sun began to lower in the sky. Even though this could be considered the center of all lombax activity in the known universe, there were still very few people about. While the area was meticulously kept up by a literal army of maintenance drones of various types, the streets, and even many of the buildings, seemed strangely deserted. It wasn't the kind of oppression that Ratchet felt on Selection Day; this was much more a generalized, vague feeling, not of threat but simply sadness. It was as though the businesses, apartment complexes, manufacturing facilities were all somehow mourning something that Ratchet could not put his finger on. Whatever the cause, the melancholy resonated with the lombax's mood.

Rather than teleporting to the Neutrino Estate, Ratchet decided that he wanted to take a hovercab. It had been nearly three years since he had taken one of the floating transports on New Fastoon (although he used them much more frequently when visiting Metropolis, or while he and Clank worked at Holostar Studios). Teleporting was much faster, but the lombax needed time. Time to take in the events of the last few days. Time to come to grips with what happened to Talwyn. And, most of all, time to think. The second attempt on his life proved that there was still someone out there trying to kill him. And while that wasn't anything new, the reaction in the Lombax Central Council would not be good. The last thing the lombaxes needed was another war.

The hovercab arrived; it was new, and polished, and looked like it hadn't been used in months. There was no sign of wear, no scuff marks from boots on the safety treads, no dental taffy wrappers in the empty trash recycler. Had it not been for the somewhat dated inspection marking, the taxi might have been manufactured yesterday.

Clank leapt up and attached himself to the connecting bolt on Ratchet's backpack straps. The lombax winced slightly; his shoulder and back was still a little sore, but it was already fully healed. Ratchet knew that most of it was in his head, and he had to get used to the weight again. Not only that, it was far safer for Clank; even though the safety treads were compatible with robotic life forms, the lombax felt that Clank would still be safer with him. The hovercab lifted off the surface and floated a few cubits above the stand. "Neutrino Estate," Ratchet said out loud, breaking the silence. The taxi lifted higher into the air, and began zipping eastward.

"Ratchet," Clank said, hoping that the lombax would respond.

"Yeah, Clank?"

"While you were unconscious, I made a few comm links." Clank was not sure if the time was right, but Ratchet would need to know and follow up on this information. Now that they were in the open air, Clank hoped that the rushing wind would bring the lombax back to the present moment.

Ratchet sighed. He had merely asked Clank to contact Rich, but while they kept vigil over Talwyn, it was quite obvious that his friend had done far more than that.

"Thanks for grabbin' the spare manifestor, by the way," Ratchet said.

"You are welcome, Ratchet."

"I wasn't payin' attention; did they say when I could pick up my gear?" Even though Clank had retrieved the spare manifestors that both he and Talwyn kept in the apartment for emergencies, his contained only the very basics: a flight suit, one change of clothes and a spare neural matrix (both of which he was now wearing), some NutraStix, half-a-pack of dental taffy, an omniwrench, a phase knife, an insta-shelter, and a matched set of combustors. It did not contain any heavy firepower or significant weapons whatsoever. Ratchet swore inwardly, and promised that he would fix that oversight in the near future.

"The decontamination process will take approximately two days," Clank explained.

"Two days?" Ratchet repeated in disbelief. "What's taking 'em so long?"

"Your clothing was heavily contaminated, and while the solution used by the diagnostic bot reduced the immediate radiation threat, it locked the isotopes into the cloth and will need to be completely flushed before it is safe to wear. Your matrix requires similar treatment. As for your manifestor, the extreme radioactive exposure may have damaged it, and it will require a complete diagnostic cycle before attempting to recover any items from storage."

The lombax sighed. He wasn't really surprised, but it was still annoying. And while he had ample supplies, including his spare matrix, he still felt naked. He didn't even have a single rocket launcher! The lombax shook his head and took a few deep breaths to clear his mind. While the cab was certainly not moving as quickly as he would have liked, the breeze in his fur did feel kind of nice. "You were sayin' about the comm links?"

"Mayor Phyronix has not reported either assassination attempt to her father, nor to the Solana government," Clank stated. "Galactic Ranger J19 returned to Solana, but was unaware of these events at the time of his departure. Sasha is extremely concerned with your personal wellbeing, along with that of Talwyn. She asked me to remind you to, as she said, 'keep your giant feet out of trouble'..."

The lombax laughed briefly, feeling a little bit better. "I'll try," Ratchet replied insincerely. "I hope ya told 'er that."

"I did, Ratchet," Clank responded. "But I do not think that she believed it for a moment.

"Aphelion requested that you contact her at your earliest convenience. She believes she may have information about the original attack."

That caught Ratchet by surprise. He looked over his shoulder at his friend. "Did she say what?"

"No, Ratchet," Clank answered.

Ratchet looked around them, trying to gauge their position based on the landmarks he could see. While the lombax knew that the Neutrino Estate, like the Solstice House, was situated in Region 8, he had never actually been there before. He knew that it was built along a cliff face, overlooking a large body of water, but other than that, Ratchet didn't know. In fact, the lombax didn't even have the location registered in his nav unit. The hovercab was not just a way to buy time to think, it was also a somewhat pragmatic solution; this way he did not have to be embarrassed asking Rich and Nichole for the coordinates. Since they were still in Region 9, Ratchet felt that he had some time.

"Let's find out," he said.

"Aphelion? Ratchet."

"Ratchet," Aphelion replied in an extremely relieved voice. "It is good to hear from you. When I learned that you were in the med center, I was very worried. Are you well?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Ratchet reassured her. "Talwyn's still there, but the doctors think she'll be okay too."

"That is the best news I have heard all day," Aphelion answered. "I have been monitoring the ministry's infonet, but other than your emergency teleport, there were not many details. Although I did hear something about an evacuation at the Nebula Complex."

"They cleared the building?" Ratchet asked.

"Indeed, Ratchet," Clank responded. "Prior to my own decontamination, all of the tenants were removed from the complex. There were no injuries, and initial screening showed no larger scale contamination."

"I am just very pleased that you were not injured, Ratchet," Aphelion said, her relief evident.

"Me too," Ratchet began. "Aphelion, Clank said you saw something this morning at Al's?"

"I did not personally, no," she explained. "But Perigee claims that she did. At first I was hesitant to believe her, but she was very insistent. During the final stage of the flyby..."

"That was really cool, by the way," Ratchet interrupted. "It looked awesome!"

"Thank you, Ratchet," Aphelion said proudly. "It was very difficult."

"It looked easy from the ground," Ratchet said. "Could ya teach me?"

"Sadly, no, Ratchet," Aphelion replied. "The gravitational multiple of those maneuvers would have rendered you unconscious."

"Oh..." Ratchet thought very quickly. "Well, what if you were there to go auto if I blacked out?"

"Perhaps another day, Ratchet," Aphelion said, trying to shift the topic. "During the flyby, Perigee's flight path took her over the region of one of the detonations. She claims to have recorded a still image of the site just before it was destroyed."

"Why did Perigee not report this to the Lombax Defense Ministry?" Clank asked.

Aphelion was silent for a few moments. It was in a hushed voice that she finally replied, "She was afraid it might start another lombax war."

The hovercab continued to move smoothly along, but Ratchet felt a sudden chill, as though they had flown through a low hanging cloud.

"Actually," Aphelion said, "I must admit that I am rather proud of her. If she is correct, her discretion may have saved countless lives."

"Will she give you the vid?" Ratchet asked.

"I will have her send it to you directly, Ratchet," Aphelion answered. "I will instruct her to encrypt it with password 'd9b7r0xx72)'. This way, you will be the only one that can view it."

Ratchet's head spun. "Dee nine bee..."

"I have it, Ratchet," Clank reassured him.

"Thanks," Ratchet chuckled. "Both of you. But, why the secrecy, Aphelion?"

"Perigee noticed an intrusive entity monitoring her vid system during the flyby," Aphelion said. "I did not detect it at first, but I logged a similar event."

"Ratchet," Clank said. "It is possible that this was Nicholas Neutrino. He appeared to be using his matrix to interact with scanning devices in the area." His tone changed as he asked Aphelion, "Do you think that he could have been this intruder?"

"I would not have believed so," Aphelion answered. "But it is possible. It was a very passive event, I barely registered it." Her tone changed to convey her disapproval. "It would have been very rude of him to do so without asking first, though!"

"It was an emergency, Aphelion," Ratchet said. Having seen Nick's abilities with the neural matrix grow stronger from the first day he wore it, Ratchet would not have been surprised if the engineer had done it. In fact, the lombax suspected that Nick wasn't even aware that he did it - that he merely looked through every feed within range. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"I would hope not!" was her indignant answer.

"He may not even have been aware of it," Clank reassured her. "After the attack, he was symptomatic of battle blackout."

"Oh," Aphelion replied in a somewhat softer tone. "I was unaware of that."

"Thank Perigee for me," Ratchet said. "The last thing anyone wants is another war."

"Indeed, Ratchet," she promised. "There are too many empty ships as it is. Good luck with your investigation. If there is anything I can assist with, please let me know."

Aphelion disconnected the link, but her comment struck a chord with Ratchet. Empty ships. Empty buildings. Empty streets. What was happening?

* * *

Ratchet and Clank had both been to the Solstice House many times over the years they had been on New Fastoon. The large stately manor had been constructed over generations ever since the dimensionator was first developed and tested. Its grand halls, ornate stonework, exquisite craftsmanship all spoke of opulence on a very large scale throughout the Solstice family history. While Reg only occupied a small portion of the huge structure, a tiny apartment in comparison to the rest of the building, the Solstice House was open to public tours as a historical preservation effort, a reminder of the time of The Flight and the lombaxes settling on New Fastoon.

The Neutrino Estate could not have been more opposite in its design or construction. Ratchet and Clank could see it from the hovercab, but from above, Ratchet would have never known it to be the grand center of the Neutrino family. He rechecked his coordinates, but it appeared correct.

From the air, the Neutrino Estate was comprised of a circular walkway interconnecting a series of nine small rural cabins. Positioned near the edge of the a large cliff to the east, the circle of houses faced inward to a central grass covered hill. Flagstones had been arranged to form the Lombax Star, similar to the design on the LCC conference room table, and the Court of Azimuth back on the original Fastoon. From the very center, a flagpole prominently displayed the LDM flag, at the moment hanging limply in the still air. There were illumination stations at the tips of each point of the star, shining upwards so that the banner could be seen day or night. Each of the houses was perfectly aligned with the design. It appeared as though the entire architecture had been thought of and drawn out from the air for just this purpose.

The hovercab began to settle on a pad just outside the circle of homes. A thin stone path led inward and connected with the inner loop. Ratchet and Clank disembarked from the taxi, and it sped away, quickly vanishing in the distance to the west. To the east, the sun was already sinking low in the sky, casting sharp shadows from the structures around them. On closer inspection, each of the relatively small cabins appeared to be constructed from fallen timber, interlocked at the corners in a saddle notch pattern. While each of the individual homes were small, they had a warm, inviting look to them that the Solstice House, with all of its size and majesty, lacked.

The lombax knew that both twins lived in the Neutrino Estate, but he did not know specifically where. The cabin at the furthest end of the circle, nearest the cliff, appeared slightly larger than the others, and the stone shingles on its roof were lombax red, while the others were a neutral grey. Thinking that this might be the main house, Ratchet and Clank began to move along the circular street towards it.

As they passed by the four houses to their right, the pair was able to pick up muted conversation from one of the buildings. The open windows on the cabin were glowing with stray light from overhead illumination filaments, and they could hear Sasha Phyronix dictating a report to H22. From where they walked along the road, they were unable to make out the words clearly, but Ratchet could tell that she was really unhappy about the proceedings, and the reluctance and hesitation in her voice was obvious.

Moving along the road, they passed an empty house, its windows closed and no sign of anyone inside. The next house had its windows open, but no illumination filaments were active. Instead, Ratchet could detect the subtle shifting of what looked like firelight reflecting off the surfaces inside the building. Smoke could be seen rising from the exhaust vent at the roof of the structure, but he could not hear anything. The lombax grew curious. Moving a little closer, walking quietly on the manicured green lawn, Ratchet could see the Alanovan, Rue, hand writing notes into a rather beat up looking book. Ratchet stared at the book, and the writing implements - it looked almost like ink and paper! A warm fire was burning cheerfully in the corner fireplace, and a lantern of some kind was set on the table where the creature was writing. He did not look up from his work, and continued on in near silence broken only by the scratch of his pen and his own contented humming. Ignoring the comfortable looking bed, a hammock was strung across between the main entrance door and the inactive holovid unit. Other than that, the construction of the cabin was very open - it was a single multipurpose room with rustic wooden furniture, a small kitchen and dining area, and a side alcove that presumably held a bathroom, sanitation station and electrostatic cleaner.

Returning to the road, Ratchet and Clank bypassed another empty house and came to their goal. The sun was just dipping to the horizon, but due to a quirk in the way the cliff was situated, there was still at least five degrees of solar arc remaining to the east. The low sun reflected off the waters of a large body of water. Ratchet could not detect a far shore from where he was standing. There building itself had windows, but they were not open at the moment. Through the frosted glass, Ratchet could see a faint illumination, but no details within.

The lombax knocked on the wooden door. It looked as though it had been constructed of the same timber that made up the outer shell of the buildings. A security camera in the corner of the doorframe clicked to life. "Ratchet! Clank!" Nichole's voice said. "We thought we'd have to send someone out to find you. Come on in. Press two on the lift."

Ratchet opened the door and walked into the building. Clank disengaged from the locking bold and moved to his side.

The structure, like the one they had peeked into, was composed of a single room. But instead of the sturdy furniture that the other cabin had, this room was almost completely bare. There was an alcove at the far left corner and a fireplace on the far right. Sixteen hooks were anchored into the wooden trunks that made up the side walls of the structure, and beneath each hook was a carved wooden chest. A heavy black cloak was hanging from one of the hooks, and a pair of boots with dried mud on them was sitting on top of the chest beneath it. A wooden bench ran along each side of the room, placed about a cubit away from the wall and chests. In the very center of the room was a circular energy lift platform, with a control panel on a narrow post in the center. This central post was attached to a field generator plate approximately one third of a cubit in diameter. A green glowing energy field closed the gap between the generator and edge of the lift shaft.

Ratchet moved forward and tentatively stepped on the green surface. It was a hard light field, and it would easily support their weight. Clank joined him at the center post. There were a series of labeled buttons on the control panel: 'Nichole N and Rich Q' were written in glowing text next to the button marked 'SL2'. 'Nicholas N' was glowing next to 'SL1'; 'Zeke W' next to 'SL3'. There were sixteen buttons in all, marked zero to 'SL15', most without any name associated with them. But one other did catch Ratchet's attention - button 'SL15' was labeled as 'Petrov N (storage)'.

Lacking further instruction, the lombax pushed button marked 'SL2' and waited. An opaque ring of green energy rose around the perimeter of the circle, blocking out all views of the outside. The lombax felt a slight jolt, and a gentle sensation of sinking. Ratchet noticed that the central disk and pillar was connected to the wall of the shaft by a very narrow support rod that disappeared through the opaque walls. A chime sounded from the central pillar, then a second chime. The energy walls dissipated.

Ratchet and Clank found themselves looking into a rather large and luxurious apartment suite. Well, perhaps 'suite' was the wrong word. The entire space of the apartment, except for two small areas at their far left and right, was completely open. There were no barriers to obstruct the view of the fantastic floor-to-ceiling permasealed glass that made up the entire eastern wall of the complex. The setting sun, already below the horizon at ground level, shone directly in through the east windows, setting in a magnificent array of rose red, fire orange and glowing gold over the still waters below them. To Ratchet's immediate left and right: a pair of office pods, with matching holovid and infonet systems, adjustable work chairs and tables. One table was scattered with multiple display tablets, the other was uncluttered, with a single tablet in the center of what looked like a holoprojection panel embedded in the desktop. At the far left corner was a huge old fashioned post corner canopy bed, complete with sheer curtains to soften, but not block, the views of any occupant that might be resting there. At the far right corner was a well stocked, but from a distance seemingly little used, kitchen and dining room.

In the center of the room was an open circular fire pit. A fire was burning cheerfully there, even though there was no visible exhaust or ventilation system. Three couches and two large overstuffed leather chairs were arranged around the fire pit, allowing easy conversation.

Rich was sprawled on edge of the leftmost couch, with Nichole sitting next to him and leaning against him. He was barefoot, with his large triangular feet resting on a small cushion near the fire. "Great timing, Ratchet!" Rich called from the couch, his arm tenderly around Nichole's shoulder. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Wow!" Ratchet exclaimed. There was really little else to say - the entire apartment was designed to make the most of the view, and it was worth every bit of it!

"I would never have speculated that this structure existed," Clank said softly, his eyes fixed on the setting sun.

"The main estate is built into the cliff face," Nichole explained. "It's not much to look at from ground level."

"Wow," Ratchet repeated. Together, he and Clank stepped off the lift. The energy walls sprang up once more. But within the apartment, the green energy walls were dim and muted so that they did not illuminate the space; darkened in this way, the curved barrier appeared almost as though it had been carved from the same wood used to construct the houses above the surface.

"Have a seat," Rich called. "Help yourself to anything from the chiller, Ratchet. Did you have anything to eat?"

Ratchet shook his head 'no', but he was really not that hungry. His stomach was still a bit rocky from the relentless events and emotions of the day. He sat down in one of the two overstuffed chairs, facing Nichole and Rich. And the sunset! Clank stood next to him, his eyes moving between the fire pit and the solar spectacle outside the window.

"I'm glad you came, Ratchet," Nichole said, and there was a trace of sadness in her voice. She sat up and Rich pulled his arm away. "I wanted to apologize..."

"Fer what?" Ratchet asked, mystified by her words.

"I... hesitated out there," she said. "I should've been more decisive. It almost cost you your life."

"No!" Ratchet said. "I'm the one that should be thanking you! You saved my life out there!"

"I'm just not used to it," she continued, not acknowledging Ratchet's words. "When the moment came... I... I..." Her ears were drooping lower and lower, and her eyes darkened with each syllable.

Ratchet tried to think of the right thing to say. He was never that good at this sort of thing. "Doc T. woulda been proud," was all he could manage.

He must have gotten lucky, he thought. Her ears immediately perked. "Do you think so?" she asked in a quiet and somehow unusually vulnerable voice.

"Certainly," Rich said. "Like I've been trying to tell you all afternoon, you did fine."

Ratchet stood, walked over to Nichole, and kissed her on the side of her muzzle. "Thank you," he said softly.

Tears were running down her face as Ratchet sat back down. Rich looked up at him very gratefully, and put his arm back around his mate's shoulders. Pulling her towards him, he rocked her back and forth slightly. Nichole wiped her tears away. "Is Doctor Phage taking care of Talwyn alright?"

"He is performing well," Clank answered. "Although I believe that he is somewhat intimidated by Zephyr and Cronk."

"Who wouldn't be," Rich muttered.

The group fell silent, watching as the sun dipped below the second horizon, shimmering off the water and finally vanishing below the surface. The bronze colors in the atmosphere lingered, and a few stray clouds punctuated the scene, illuminated a fiery red from below.

Ratchet finally broached the topic that was lingering in the air. "Didja tell the council?"

"Not yet," Rich answered. "But they'll find out soon enough, if they don't already know."

"What'll happen?"

Rich sighed. "Reg, Spiff, Phage and I will try to talk them out of doing anything stupid," he said.

"What about Petrov?" Ratchet asked.

Rich and Nichole laughed. Nichole looked in Ratchet's eyes, her own a somewhat sad dark green. "You know dad. He'll be the most stubborn of the lot."

"True," Ratchet chuckled grimly.

"Mayor Phyronix has not reported either incident to the Solana government," Clank said. "And J19 was unaware of these events, since he returned to Solana before they occurred."

Rich sat up quickly, Nichole was off balance for a moment but quickly compensated. "What?" he asked.

"Mayor Phyronix..."

"No, Clank. What was that about J19?" Rich was insistent.

"He returned to Solana."

"No he didn't," Rich said grimly. Standing up, the regional minister walked over to the cluttered office cluster. Pulling a display tablet out seemingly at random, he began to read through it. "Dimensionator travel log," he muttered in explanation. He continued reading. Finally, he put the tablet down and shook his head. "I was right. J19 never left New Fastoon."

* * *

It didn't make sense. Why would a Galactic Ranger attack him? "That doesn't make sense," Ratchet said aloud.

"Very little of this does, Ratchet," Nichole offered.

"If he didn't leave, I have to assume that he's gone rogue, and that he was disintegrated in Nick's blast," Rich said.

"But the attack in the apartment," Ratchet said, questioning. "How'd he manage that?"

"Maybe he set it up beforehand," Rich said. "Didja notice anything unusual last night?"

Ratchet thought back. He had nearly tripped over that damn cleaning drone. It had avoided Talwyn. Looking at Rich's perked ears and twitching tail, the lombax was seriously thinking about not telling him. "How could he 've gotten into the apartment?"

"Oh, come on, Ratchet," Rich said. "Your front door combination is probably the worst kept secret in this galaxy."

"Did you give Sasha the combination," Nichole asked. "Were the Rangers near?"

Ratchet thought about it. There was no point in denying it. He nodded. "Yeah," he said in a defeated voice. "They were."

"Okay," Rich said. "At least we know what we're dealing with. The question is why."

"We still do not have any evidence to support this theory," Clank said. "There is certainly not enough to go to the council with."

"Who said I was going to the council?" Rich said, somewhat surprised.

Ratchet blinked. Huh?

"Look," Rich said, returning to the couch and sitting down next to Nichole. "The last thing the lombaxes need is another war. Not now. Not for a long time." Nichole, Clank and Ratchet all nodded. "If we can handle this quietly without the council involved, I think it might be better for everyone."

"I agree with your assessment," Clank told Rich. "Do you have any plans in this matter?"

"Not yet," Rich said. "If it comes to it, we'll send Sasha and H22 packing, recall ambassador Parallax, self-destruct the Apogee Station, and put a moratorium on the dimension."

"Whoa!" Ratchet said. "That's a bit extreme, ain't it? I mean, yesterday we were tryin' t' open trade relations."

"I know," Rich said. He turned to Nichole. "Have you talked with him about the Helix Arc yet?"

"Not yet," Nichole replied. Turning to Ratchet, she had a rather frosty look in her eyes. "He's been putting off his check-ups again."

"Okay," Rich began.

"I think it's pretty obvious that lombaxes, as a species, are in trouble. Two long, back to back wars reduced our numbers to dangerous levels. After The Flight, there were only about 30,000 of us left. Of them, many had lost their mates. Our numbers have been getting better, but we're still standing at a dangerous tipping point. Given time, we might recover; but if there's another war...

"We could be facing extinction."

Nichole shuddered slightly at Rich's words, but spoke as well. "The medical and bio researchers in the Institute have known about this for some time now. They've been quietly taking steps to prevent that from happening."

"Cloning?" Ratchet asked, thinking with horror of the grummels.

"No," Rich said, shaking his head. "We've seen that doesn't work. Given the choice between extinction and becoming like the grummels, I think most 'baxes would take extinction.

"The Institute's been working on a project called the Helix Arc. Doctor Phage and Nichole gave me the run down: it's a genetic library of lombax volunteers. We hope it'll never be used, but if it is, at least we might be able to give scientists in the future a third choice."

"Ratchet," Nichole said. "Doctor Phage has been the Institute's lead on this project. He's already gotten the support of most of the bio fields there, along with some LDM and LCC members. We hope we can recover naturally. But another war could end those chances permanently."

Ratchet thought back at all the vacant spaces on New Fastoon. Everyone felt it. Now it had a word - extinction.

"There's hope, though," Nichole said. "The birth rate among bonded lombaxes is actually at an all time high. The population is climbing. But we're moving ahead with the Helix Arc anyway, just in case."

"Good," Ratchet muttered quietly.

"That's why we're trying so hard to settle this now," Rich said.

"I know," Ratchet answered. It made sense. The costs were just too high.

"Ratchet," Rich said. "I know Nichole hasn't discussed this with you yet. But I really hope we can talk you into volunteering for the Helix Arc too."

Huh? "Why me?" Ratchet asked.

Rich glanced at Nichole, then looked Ratchet in the eyes. "I'm sorry. This is gonna hurt.

"You already know about Doc T's research; how he didn't find a genetic match for your family."

Ratchet nodded. He had a feeling that he knew where this was going.

"You and Talwyn won't be able to have children," Rich said.

"I'm a genetic dead end," Ratchet stated flatly. It hurt, but he understood why they were asking.

"Not a dead end," Nichole was quick to try to correct, or at least soften. "It's just ... that ..." Words failed her, and she fell silent.

"You don't have to, Nichole. I understand," Ratchet replied. "I would be a new ... 'strain'." The lombax chuckled grimly. "I always wondered what it would be like t' have kits."

"Ratchet," Rich said. "It's not just you. We're hoping to get a lot of others: widows and widowers, unbonded singles, monosexuals, mixed species bondings..."

"What's involved?" Ratchet interrupted.

"Doctor Phage would take a detailed family history, along with tissue and reproductive samples," Nichole said in a very clinical manner. "They would be put into cryostatis in case they are ever needed."

"Hopefully never," Rich added.

Ratchet nodded and was silent for a time. "I'll have t' think about it," he eventually said. 'N I wanna talk it over with Talwyn first."

"Of course," Nichole said. "We're not talking about something immediate."

"But this is why we have to avoid this war," Rich said. "Even if we have to break off all ties with Solana, Bogon, and Polaris to do it."


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Gone Stalking**

The sky to the east darkened slowly as the evening wore into the night. Ratchet, Clank, Nichole and Rich continued to talk; sometimes about serious topics, other times about more mundane things. While the Helix Arc was not mentioned again, the general concept of extinction weighed on Ratchet's mind. And while there was no hard evidence that the Galactic Rangers were involved in the attempts on his life, the fact that J19 was missing, and that Sasha had lied about it, was enough to make the lombax's ears bristle.

After about an hour, Nichole stood from the couch, beckoning Ratchet and Clank to follow her.

"It's been a long day," she said. "If I'm exhausted, I can't even imagine how _you_ feel."

"I'm fine," Ratchet replied, although the droop in his ears and the fact that his tail was dragging slightly probably made that lie unconvincing.

"I'm sure," Nichole agreed politely. She touched the wall of the lift with her gloved hand. It began to glow more intensely green. "I'm going to program a suite for you. Feel free to use it whenever you want."

The wall dissipated and the energy lift and post had returned. She led Ratchet and Clank onto the platform. Moving to the controls, Nichole pushed and held down the 'LS2' button.

"Ratchet," she instructed. "Push and hold the 'five'. Even though the levels are soundproofed, I want to leave at least one empty floor between you and Zeke. I'd swear I can still hear him sometimes..."

Ratchet did as he was told, pushing the sub-level five button and holding it. In a clear voice, Nichole said, "Ratchet Neutrino." The label next to the 'SL5' button flickered, and then displayed 'Ratchet N'. Nichole released her button and Ratchet did the same.

"You're all set," she said. "Just leave any wet or muddy stuff up in the changing room. Nick's got a bad habit of tracking stuff in, and it messes with the lift. And whatever you do, don't push 'zero' and 'thirteen' at the same time!"

"Why not?" Ratchet looked at her curiously. He hadn't even wanted to do that until she said not to.

"It's an emergency reset. It shuts down the field projectors."

Ratchet looked down at the energy field that they were standing on. The central post and plate was only attached to the shaft by a very narrow support beam, less than a centicubit across. A sixteen floor drop down the shaft did not really appeal to him. "Oh," he said weakly.

"It's actually a great defensive design," Rich said from the open chiller in the kitchen area. "Not something you'd ever want to use, but..."

"Just in case," Ratchet said, nodding.

"Yeah."

"We will take that into consideration," Clank replied.

Nichole hugged both Ratchet and Clank in turn. "Get something to eat, then go to sleep," she ordered. "This is your doctor talking."

"Yes, ma'am," Ratchet replied, grinning.

"Make sure Jacek gets your apartment number right," Rich called out. "He's used to delivering to us."

"And make an appointment before I make one for you." She had apparently not forgotten that Ratchet had been avoiding his checkups again. "It's more important now."

"I know," he said as she stepped off the lift platform. Glancing at Clank standing next to him, he pushed the 'SL5' button. "I promise."

The walls became opaque once again, and there was a slight sensation of downward motion. More chimes, counting the different levels as they passed.

Clank noticed a small glowing crystal on Ratchet's glove. "Ratchet," he began, "it appears as though you have received a message."

"Yeah," Ratchet said, twisting his arm to look at the control panel. "I saw it light up, but I didn't wanna say anything."

"Do you believe that it is from Perigee?" Clank asked.

"Yeah," Ratchet answered. "Who else would send a file without linking first?"

The lift came to a stop and the lombax and robot looked out into another open air suite. While the physical layout was similar to Rich and Nichole's apartment, it was quite clear that this level had not been used in a while. There were no office pods as there had been above; instead there was an extra overstuffed chair with a display tablet resting on edge next to it and a few net and charging stations. The dining room table was much smaller and it was bare except for a small globe of preserved blooms in the center. There was a large, corner post canopy bed, and this is where the lombax's eyes went first. It was not nearly as ornate as the carved bed above them, but it looked very sturdy with its simple post construction, and it was freshly made with crisp, clean linens. While the apartment looked empty, without any real personal touches, it was easy to see that someone (Nichole?) had prepared it for their arrival.

"I'll be right back," Ratchet said, and began to explore the semi-hidden rooms to his far left and right. As he expected, both were bathrooms, and even though they were small, they both sported full hydroshower alcoves. He used the sanitation unit, then placed his hand on the electrostatic cleaning sphere. "How's the view?" he called out to Clank through the thin partition that separated this room from the main apartment.

"It is remarkable," Clank replied, staring out through the permasealed glass. Ratchet walked up behind him, placed his hand on Clank's shoulder. The sun had gone down, and the stars were just becoming visible against the rapidly darkening sky. They looked incredibly clear and bright over the water.

After a few moments, Ratchet sat down in one of the couches by the fire pit. Examining the pit closely, he could see an activation switch, various intensity and configuration controls, along with a downdraft exhaust system. No wonder there was no chimney or flue! "Wanna fire, Clank?" Ratchet asked, a grin on his face. He knew how much Clank loved watching the flames, even from controlled burn systems.

"Not at this time, Ratchet," Clank replied. The lombax's ears drooped slightly. "You need to get some rest, and I also require a recharge."

"Okay," Ratchet said. He didn't really want a fire himself, but had offered for Clank's sake. He sighed deeply. "Before that, lemme check out that file."

Ratchet touched a few controls on his glove's control panel. "Clank," he said, "what was that password again?"

"One moment," Clank said, and his antenna pulsed. "I have transmitted it for you."

"Thanks," Ratchet said with a slight chuckle. "I'd never remember that. As it is, I jus' got used t' the apartment combo..."

The lombax fell silent. His ears visibly drooped even further, and his tail hit the floor.

"What is it, Ratchet?" Clank asked, concern in his voice.

Ratchet shook his head and copied the decrypted image to Clank's manifestor and to his own. Clank examined it and his eyes dimmed significantly.

"Now we've got proof," Ratchet said sadly.

The enhanced image that Perigee had sent was of a small disk like device that had been planted behind the rock formation on the plain in Region 7. Both of them recognized it immediately.

It was a warp pad, a specialized teleportation device used exclusively by the Galactic Rangers.

* * *

Ratchet tossed fitfully in the large comfortable bed, his mind filled with speculation about the Galactic Rangers, Solana, and war. Image after image came to him as he tried to sleep: thoughts of Captain Waterman bombarding Metropolis from space, Petrov leading a ground attack on Veldin, Sasha and Talwyn trying to kill each other at the Apogee Station. The lombax flipped over, punched his innocent pillow as hard as he could, and tried to drift off again. No luck. He just couldn't sleep, and lying in bed pretending wasn't getting him anywhere.

For a while, Ratchet stared out at Clank through the sheer curtains that provided some level of privacy and shelter in the open space of the apartment. The little robot was near the chair in the office area, charging leads connected and the data conduit active. Clank's optics were inactive, but Ratchet knew that didn't really mean anything. The very tip of Clank's antenna was glowing slightly, and that more than anything else let Ratchet know that Clank was faking sleep, just as he was.

An hour slowly passed. Ratchet tried to get comfortable, but could not. Changing his tactics, he tried remaining as still as possible; maybe he could wait until Clank gave up his vigil and went to sleep himself. Then, remembering Nichole's words while he was hiding under Talwyn's bed, the lombax began to focus on his breathing. Despite being extremely tense (what he wouldn't give for a hard workout in the Doom Dome right now!), the lombax deliberately tried to slow and deepen his breathing. In... Out... In... Out...

After about a minute of this, Ratchet noticed that the glow in the tip of Clank's antenna was fading! In... Out... In... Out... The glow extinguished, and the lombax noticed that the data rate on the feed cable decreased significantly. In... Out... In... Out...

Very quietly, the lombax pulled back the blankets and climbed out of the bed. Grabbing his boots (with his neural matrix and gloves stuffed inside the right boot), Ratchet moved as silently as he could towards the lift. He was careful to maintain his deep breathing, but Clank did not stir, and the glow did not return to his antenna.

Not wanting to awaken Clank, Ratchet put his bare hand against the energy field. The lombax had a moment of panic as the brightness of the opaque energy walls increased enough to cast subtle green shadows in the room, but Clank did not appear to notice. Moving slowly and deliberately, Ratchet moved to the post and pressed 'zero'. The walls formed, and he felt a slight lurch as he began to ascend to ground level.

Each chime as they passed a floor caused Ratchet' heart to skip, and the lombax was trying desperately to remember if the soundproofing with each floor included the lift shaft. It felt like forever, but finally he was on the surface. The walls melted away and the familiar hooks, benches and chests greeted him in the near total darkness. Ratchet moved towards the door, where the light from the illuminated flag, combined with a rather significant amount of starlight, gave him enough illumination to dress. Very quietly, the lombax began to make his way along the circle of houses, back the way he came.

Dark thoughts echoed in his mind, mostly related to a war that the lombaxes could not afford. It still didn't make sense, though. Why? Why would anyone from Solana want him dead? Well, that was self-defeating; Ratchet knew a lot of people in Solana that would want him dead. But none of them would have been able to get the Rangers on their side.

The lombax did not get far when he heard muffled cries of terror and pain ahead of him. The lombax hurried forward, off the roadway once more, and came to the open window of the Alanovan's cabin. As he got closer, he saw the very faint shadow of the hammock hanging from the doorway swinging violently as its occupant fought his way through a loud and inescapable nightmare. Ratchet remembered Talwyn's comments about Rue keeping her up all night with horrible dreams. The lombax could relate to that; especially tonight! He thought about waking up the sleeping creature, but decided against it. At least the Alanovan was asleep; maybe not the most restful of sleep, but it was better than nothing.

As Ratchet passed by the house, a blue flash flared from inside the cabin and winked out again just as quickly. Ratchet heard, or thought he heard, a gentle male voice, soothing the Alanovan. "Ssshhhhh... Don't worry - it can't hurt you," it said. "G'night, Rue." Ratchet turned back to the house. The voice had been faint, but unmistakable. And it sounded kinda familiar... In a way, it reminded the lombax of how Petrov would lull Crystal to sleep. He thought about it for a moment, but could not place where he might have heard the voice before, nor the name of the speaker. Hearing no other sounds come from the house, Ratchet eventually turned back to the road, and to Sasha and the remaining Ranger.

He wasn't sure if it was because of the night air, or just being able to _do_ something about the situation, but the lombax began to feel a little bit better as he passed the empty house and strode up to the closed door of Sasha's cabin. There was no movement from inside, but there was a faint illumination from an artificial yellow source. Ratchet took a deep breath and knocked quietly on the wooden door. At first he did not think anyone had heard him, so he was about to knock again when he heard the heavy tread of steel boots approaching. The door opened a small crack, and H22's yellow optics peeked through the opening. There was a flicker of recognition.

"Minister," H22 said, and there was certainly a large amount of disdain and annoyance in his tone. "It is late, and the Mayor is asleep. Can I take a message?"

Ratchet nodded. It was really H22 that he wanted to talk to, but this seemed as good of a way to start the difficult conversation as he could get. "Yeah. Could ya tell her that J19 never went back t' Solana?"

H22's optics narrowed. "One moment," the ranger muttered. The door closed momentarily, and there was the sound of a security restraint being disengaged. The door opened wide and H22 stepped out. The lombax had to take a step backward to make room on the threshold for the large robot. H22 swung the door loosely closed behind him, but did not pull it completely shut.

"Why do you think that J19 did not return to Solana?" H22 asked.

"There's no logs that he left," Ratchet replied warily. H22's reaction seemed completely alien. The lombax knew H22, fought with him; pushing a confrontation was certainly not H22's style. (Or that of any Galactic Ranger, for that matter.)

"Ah," H22 said quietly, nodding. "And as minister, you would know that..."

"What's wrong, H22?" Ratchet asked, trying to get whatever was wrong out into the open. "Don'tcha remember me? We fought together in the Biobliterator War? You used t' call me Sarge?"

H22's reaction was not what Ratchet had hoped for. Instead of any warmth or recognition, there was a flare in H22's optics and his voice grew extremely cold. "I used to know you, minister," he said. "And I thought I knew that killer too."

Huh?

"J19?" Ratchet asked tentatively. Could it be that the Ranger really had gone rogue, and this was all just a one time thing? Maybe H22 knew what happened with J19, and was trying to cover it up to protect Sasha and Solana.

"He was my friend," H22 said loudly, with another burst of anger. Looking back to the door behind him, H22 took another step forward. Ratchet had to back away again to match. There was something the lombax didn't like with H22's proximity - it made the fur on the back of his neck bristle. "He was a hero."

Ratchet's mind spun very quickly. While H22 didn't say who he was talking about, it could only be J19. If they were working together, or if H22 was sympathetic to J19's attack...

Ratchet took a cautious step backwards, but H22 stepped forward to keep the distance between them uniform, and suddenly uncomfortably close for the lombax's liking. H22's optics glared at him, unblinking as all robotic life tends to be. But it never made the lombax nervous before.

"And he was murdered," H22 said in a quiet and somehow dangerous voice.

Murdered? Now Ratchet was really puzzled. 'Terminated' is usually the term that robotic life forms used for death. Murder is more of an organic reference.

"And you usurped his place..."

What?

"And here you are, part of the lombax government, with that murderer by your side."

Oh no... "What do you mean, H?" Ratchet asked, trying to force his voice to be slow, calm, and reasonable. This didn't make any sense...

"What are you anyway, _minister_?" H22 accused. "A clone? Maybe a replicant? Are you even organic?"

...frack...

"I'm Ratchet," the lombax explained cautiously. "We fought together. I don't know where you got the idea..."

"Don't lie to me!" H22 lashed out loudly. "I watched Sergeant Ratchet die!"

"That's impossible!" Ratchet argued, glancing around at the quiet circle of cabins, taking another step back. This time, H22 did not follow or close the distance. "I'm right here!"

"Liar!"

Even with his conditioning and physical abilities, Ratchet was still too close, and his reaction time too slow, to outmaneuver the robot. H22's right arm shot out, grabbing Ratchet's throat in his right hand and holding him tight. The lombax moved reflexively to pry the hand away, but the hydraulic grip was too strong. Lifting the lombax lightly in the air as though he were a rag doll and shaking him on occasion, H22 continued to rant.

"That security drone reject murdered the real Ratchet!" H22 shouted, his voice growing louder, wilder. "And he will finally be brought to justice." There was a pause as H22 regained control of himself, but the softly dangerous tone in his voice brought little comfort. "I am just glad that I can deal with _you_ as I see fit."

"H22!"

The Galactic Ranger turned to his right. Ratchet could not move his neck to see, but he recognized Clank's voice instantly. He tried to shout a warning, but the grip was tight enough that he could not speak.

"You are making a mistake," Clank said. "You information is inaccurate."

H22 glared at the significantly smaller robot. "At last," he said quietly.

"Release Ratchet, and I will accompany you wherever you wish," Clank offered.

Ratchet's hands continued to struggle with H22's steel grip. The 'no' he tried to shout never made it out of his throat.

"Oh, you will come with me, Clank," H22 promised. "But as for the imposter..."

H22's hand began to squeeze. Ratchet could not breathe, but that would not matter if his neck was broken. The lombax struggled to break the grip, or to push himself away. But suspended in midair, he could not get any leverage. The grip grew tighter, and Ratchet began to see bright flares at the edges of his darkening vision.

The flares suddenly turned into sparks; jagged bright blue-white bolts of electricity. H22's hand unclenched and Ratchet dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Crouching to both break his fall and get into a ready position, omniwrench in hand, Ratchet looked up to see H22 convulsing in electrical current. The robot continued to shudder violently for more than a few very fast heartbeats, and then began to topple to his left. Dodging out of the way, Ratchet watched H22 hit the ground, his yellow optics dark. The lombax rubbed his neck, looked up, and met the eyes of Sasha Phyronix. She was standing in the now open doorway dressed only in a nightgown and some kind of fuzzy slippers on her feet. The cazar's fur was sticking up in places on one side of her head, and she was holding a discharged tesla block in her hand.

"Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?"


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Crystal Memories**

"I'd like t' know that too," Ratchet muttered, staring down at the disabled Galactic Ranger. There was a slight acrid smell of burned wiring as a faint trail of smoke rose from the robot's scorched chassis. "He kept sayin' I was a fake."

"I got that part," Sasha grumbled unhappily, her voice quick and impatient. "Confronting a Ranger twice your size and six times your weight with only a wrench? Trust me, you're a lombax. You guys woke me up with all your yelling."

"It was rather fortunate that you had a tesla block," Clank said, walking over to examine H22.

"Just a precaution," Sasha said smiling. "I don't leave home without one."

"Is he...?" Ratchet started to ask, but his voice faded into silence. While he knew that the ranger had been dangerous and almost killed him, the lombax still remembered H22 as a friend.

"His motive systems and armory are badly damaged," Clank replied. "They are repairable, but it will take a significant amount of effort to do so. His neural cortex appears to be shielded, however."

"Could he talk?" Sasha asked.

"Not in his present state, no," Clank replied. "However, his head could be removed and connected to an alternate IO subsystem. He would be able to communicate in that way." He looked into Sasha's eyes. "With your permission," Clank offered.

"Do it."

Clank began to unfasten a series of connections that locked the Rangers head, optics and speaker system to the main chassis. Ratchet had repaired many types of devices in the past, but there was just something... wrong... about this. It would be like chopping off someone's head and using it as a trophy. That was the kind of thing cragmites did - not lombaxes.

"Do we hafta..." Ratchet began.

Sasha interrupted him. "No, Ratchet," she said flatly. "I've known H22 for years. He was my friend too. Something happened, and we need to find out what it was."

Clank removed H22's head and began unplugging the circuitry that ran from the interface at the base of the neural cortex to the rest of his body. There were some stray movements as the leads were disconnected, but finally the ranger's head was removed. Clank offered it to Sasha.

"Thank you, Clank," she said, accepting the head. Looking down at the rest of the ranger, she looked around the tranquil circle of houses. "What do we do about the body?"

"Let's get 'm inside," Ratchet offered, moving to grab the robot under both arms. Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, the lombax managed (in stages) to drag the heavy steel framed chassis the few cubits into the cabin. Winded, he rested briefly inside the small house. The layout was similar to the apartments, but was far more rustic with the structure composed solely of the fallen timbers, and the heavy framed wooden furniture seemed a perfect match. Actually, he thought to himself, it was really kind of nice!

Sasha was trying to brush down the fur that she had slept on, but it really wasn't working. "Sorry we woke you," Ratchet joked, trying to lighten the grim mood of the room.

"I'm surprised you didn't wake up the whole Estate!" Sasha laughed.

"Yeah," Ratchet laughed in return. "We were kinda loud, I guess." Ratchet looked over to Clank. "But what woke you up?" he asked. "I know your sensors 'r good, but you couldn't'a heard us that far down."

"I was awake the entire evening, Ratchet," Clank replied.

But...

"But I was watching you," Ratchet explained. "I saw your antenna go out."

"Indeed so, Ratchet," Clank said, chuckling briefly. "I was listening to you as well, and I heard you start 'snoring'." The robot paused briefly. "It was an amusing attempt," he said.

Ratchet laughed. He should have known that from the beginning. "That bad, huh?"

"Your snoring is legendary," Sasha commented, having given up on the brush and was now just trying to wet down the offending bit of fur and stick it into place. "Your old Metropolis apartment had to leave the rooms around you vacant for a reason, you know."

"I thought it was because of my weapons," Ratchet said, somewhat taken aback by Sasha's comment.

"Partly," she explained. "But it was mainly because no one could deal with the noise. Your landlords eventually just packed the rooms with acoustigon and sealed the doors shut."

"That may explain why I do not recall ever meeting our neighbors," Clank observed.

"At least yer getting control o' that glow," Ratchet said, changing the subject away from his snoring. "We'll be able t' kick Nick's tail in partner poker next time." The lombax stood and stretched. He didn't want to admit it, but H22 was heavy! And he was really very, very tired.

"It is somewhat difficult," Clank explained, "but I am learning to redirect my energy away from certain circuits at times of stress."

"You mean when yer lyin'," Ratchet said with a bit of a grin.

"Then too," Clank replied dryly.

"What kind of equipment will we need to revive H22?" Sasha asked.

"A variable power feed should do it," Ratchet answered, looking at the fairly familiar series of connectors. "If we need to, we can hook up a comm link for audio."

"I believe that we should inform Minister Quantum of these latest developments immediately," Clank said. "Given his concern, and the potential actions within the council, it might be best for him to know as soon as possible."

Ratchet glanced over at Sasha briefly, and the fur that would not stay in place. "I really don't wanna wake 'm up," he explained.

"Ratchet, do you believe that he would be able to sleep under these circumstances either?"

* * *

Ratchet and Clank discretely waited outside of the cabin while Sasha dressed. As they stood in the chill air, Ratchet contacted Rich over his comm link. Clank was correct - the regional minister was awake, doing some administrivia chores that he did not really want to discuss. Rich let Ratchet know that Nichole was also awake, and that Doctor Phage had updated her with Talwyn's latest condition. While Zephyr and Cronk hassled the doctor when he first arrived, the let him go about his work with minimal interruption, other than some rather graphic threats about what would happen to him if Talwyn said so. Rich passed along the good news that Talwyn's cellular fragmentation was decreasing, whatever that was. She was improving, and that's what mattered.

Once Sasha had dressed, the three of them (with Ratchet carrying H22's head in a pillow case slung over his shoulder), walked back to the main house. The only sound coming from Rue's cabin now was the slow and deep breathing of the Alanovan as he slept peacefully in his hammock. They continued on to the main house and let themselves in. Ratchet led the way to the lift, and pressed the 'SL2' button; Rich had told him to meet at his apartment, since Nichole was awake anyway.

The fire pit was still burning as the force field protecting the lift shaft dissipated, and Sasha, Ratchet and Clank entered Rich and Nichole's apartment. "Wow!" Sasha commented, looking around at both the apartment and the stars spread out beyond the glass wall.

Ratchet's eyes were fixed on Nichole as she manipulated a three dimensional holoscan projected above her desk. Even though the figure was made completely out of light, Ratchet could immediately recognize Talwyn. He moved to Nichole's office pod. "How is she?" he asked.

Nichole looked up at him, somewhat surprised. She looked tired. Her ears were drooped, her tail was hanging a bit low. But her eyes were a medium green, lighter than they were before. "She'll be okay," she said. "Didn't Rich tell you?"

Ratchet gave a guilty little start. "Yeah," he said, somewhat embarrassed. "But I didn't follow most of it."

"She's getting stronger," Nichole said. "Pretty soon, we'll be able to lift the quarantine, and you won't need to break in to see her." Ratchet shrugged and tried to give an innocent grin. "I know you're worried - let me show you something."

Ratchet moved closer and the display changed. Talwyn was now a green filled outline. Ratchet remembered the display from his own medical exam: it was a genetic variance map, the primary diagnostic for GBD. But he could not see anything wrong.

"You won't be able to notice much," Nichole commented. "Let me enhance it." Suddenly, the entirety of Talwyn's body was filled with tiny flecks of yellow, with a handful of small red spots, especially around her lungs. A shot of adrenalin hit the lombax and he backed away from the desk. "Relax, Ratchet," Nichole said. "This is enhanced 50x. There's no immediate danger, but I would like to schedule surgery once she has recovered." Looking into his eyes, she added, "It's nothing serious. Really."

"That's... good to know," Ratchet replied haltingly, somewhat (but not completely) comforted by her words.

"Ratchet," Clank interrupted. "We have assembled the components and connectors necessary."

Ratchet crossed over to Rich's desk. The display pads that were there previously had been hastily stacked in a small mound to the side of the pod. The surface of the desk was clear except for a series of power feeds, a small audio generator and speech interpreter connected to a link crystal via fiber conduit. Ratchet swung the sack around his body, and holding the opening low, allowed Clank to carefully retrieve the contents. Nichole gave a small gasp and muttered, "That's just so wrong..."

As Clank was connecting the power couplings (deactivated from the feed source to reduce the chance of damage), Rich motioned for Sasha to take the seat as his desk. "You're probably the only one he'd be willing to talk to at this point," Rich pointed out. Sasha nodded. "See if you can find out what's going on."

"That's what I intend to do, Minister Quantum," the Mayor replied, perhaps a little more stiffly than she intended. She adjusted H22's head so that his relatively immobile optics would only register blank walls.

"Rich. Please," he said in reply.

Sasha smiled. "Sorry, Rich. It's been a long day." She took a deep breath as Clank stepped back and nodded. "You might want to step out of sight - he might do better if he just sees me."

The lombaxes (and Clank) nodded, and retreated to stand behind the disembodied head.

"I'm ready," she muttered.

Clank nodded and activated the power feeds.

There was no sound, no motion. No real indication of what was happening at first. Finally, the optics began to glow.

"Oh no!" H22 shouted, his voice far thinner and less threatening coming from the smaller audio generator. "Where am I? What happened?" There was a pause for about a second and then, "I can't feel my legs! I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS!"

"H22?" Sasha asked, getting as close as she could to the glowing optic.

"Ms. Phyronix?" H22 asked. "Is that you?"

"Yes, H22," she replied, trying to sooth her frightened friend. "There's been an accident. You've been hurt. We had to take most of your systems offline."

"Nooo!" the ranger howled. "I was just manufactured nine years ago! I'm too young to terminate!"

"No one is going to terminate you, H..." Sasha reassured him. "Do you remember what happened?"

H22 fell silent for a few moments, his optics dimming. "I remember, uh, talking with your friend, the minister." His optics remained dim, and they moved away from her as though avoiding eye contact. "Where are we, by the way?"

"Never mind that," Sasha insisted. "Keep going. You were talking with Ratchet..."

"Yeah," H22 said, with a strange kind of gruffness to his tone. Suddenly his optics brightened. "He did this to me!" he said. "Ms. Phyronix, you have to leave. Now! Don't worry about me. Just tell your father what happened."

At the mention of President Phyronix, Sasha gave a sudden start. The lombaxes, out of view behind H22's immobile head, looked at each other in confusion. What did _he_ have to do with this?

"What about my father?" Sasha asked.

H22 refused to go into detail. "You have to leave," he insisted. "Get to safety."

"Not until you tell me what my father has to do with this," Sasha repeated. She began drumming her gloved fingers impatiently on the table right in front of H22, his optics following her every motion.

"Tell him I failed." H22 said it with finality, as though he expected to be terminated on the spot for whatever indiscretion he had committed.

This was not what anyone was expecting. Sasha sat back in the chair, contemplating her next move. Ratchet merely shrugged to Rich and Nichole's questioning stare. Clank, however, had a grim thought. He manifested a display tablet and began to write.

"After all he showed me," H22 sadly continued, as though confessing his own deepest regrets, "I still failed..." H22 became silent, his optics fixed on Sasha.

"Failed what?" Sasha asked, hoping for one more answer before H22 became too far gone in his misery to respond. "What did he show you?"

Clank showed the tablet to the three lombaxes. Neither Rich nor Nichole understood, and it showed in their ears and tails. Ratchet, however, was horrified. While he was able to remain silent, his jaw fell open and his ears plummeted. Shaking his head in denial, he studied Clank's features; the robot was serious. And, in a twisted way, it was the only answer that made sense.

The lombaxes and Clank turned to face Sasha. Ratchet held up the tablet, with the symbols "L2T" written on it in lombax.

Sasha did not recognize the symbols. While she was a brilliant tactician and charismatic leader, she did not read lombax. She shook her head ever so slightly. Ratchet converted the symbols to the common Solanan alphabet and showed it to her once more. Her eyes widened in understanding.

But H22 had noticed her shake her head. "Is there someone behind me?" he asked. "It's that counterfeit, isn't it?"

"H..." Sasha said, trying to placate the robot.

"It's that fake! He did this to me somehow! And one of these days, he'll pay! Him and his murdering cohort too!"

"That's enough!" Sasha shouted, pounding her fist onto the table. Her anger was written all over her features. "Ranger H22, if you ever want to see another dawn, you'll tell me what my father showed you. You know my rank as Commander of the Galactic Rangers and as a member of the Solana ruling government. That is a direct order!"

H22's optics went out completely, but he continued to speak. "My orders came directly from President Phyronix himself." There was a trace of fear in his voice. "And one of those orders was _not_ to tell you."

Sasha's patience was wearing thin. The thought of her father being involved with this really scared her. She knew him as a kind and gentle cazar; even the concept of him being mixed up in this seemed impossible.

Meanwhile, Ratchet wrote another comment on the tablet and handed it to Clank. The robot read it, and nodded deeply once to Ratchet. His antenna began to pulse rapidly, and a data link connected with the tablet. After a few seconds, the robot began typing another message for Sasha, in Solanan this time. It merely read: "Play me". He held it up for her to read.

Sasha stood and reached around H22's head. On hearing her motions, his optics reactivated. She returned with the display tablet in hand, and recognized the preprogrammed sequence. Her eyes began to get very moist. "H?" she said quietly.

"Yes, Ms. Phyronix?" the robot replied.

"I'm going to play a video for you. Is that okay?"

"If you must," H22 sulked in a very defensive voice.

Sasha flipped the tablet so that it faced the disembodied head of the Galactic Ranger. She blinked to clear the tears from her eyes, hoping that she was wrong. Gravely, she pressed play.

The display showed Clank, dressed in his Secret Agent attachments, priming a weapon. Coldly, Clank said, "You are fired." Then he laughed to himself as he raised the weapon and shot Ratchet through the heart.

The clip ceased. H22 was incredulous. "Where did you get that?" he asked. "If you knew all along, why did you still come here?"

Sasha fell back into the chair. Tears were flowing freely now, and her voice trembled. Seeing Ratchet and Clank move forward toward her, she held her hand up to warn them off. Not yet...

"H," she said softly, "What was that, and where did you see it before?"

H22 was not sure what to make of her reaction, or of the situation, and it showed in the sudden uncertainty in his voice. "That is the surveillance vid your father showed me. It is proof of that monster's cruelty."

"No," Sasha whispered. "That was a scene from Clank's last holovid, 'License To Terminate'."

H22 blinked his optics, but could not really react much more than that. "That is impossible..."

Sasha fast forwarded though the holovid. "Let me show you the credits..." Then she held the screen out once more.

As the ending credits flowed in an encoded datastream across the top of the display, outtakes and blooper scenes of various characters were shown at the bottom. H22 followed the encrypted information flow, absorbing each pixelated bit. The stream began to slow as the final credits entered the display area. But far more interesting was the humorous edit scene below.

It was Ratchet, wearing nothing but his underwear, his fur soaked through with red dye. The lombax was running away in the security camera shot, making a mad dash across the studio lot to vanish into a dilapidated trailer at the far corner, leaving a dripping trail of red everywhere he went. The camera did a close up of his tail as it vanished into the trailer, and the words "The End" displayed across the datastream region. It was a terrible pun, but Ion Lemming was known for that kind of thing. The datastream changed one final time to read 'Secret Agent Clank will return in Raritanium Is Forever' before the screen faded to black.

H22 was stunned. He blinked his optics several times in silence. Sasha fell back into the chair, curled onto her side and began to cry. Finally, H22 choked out a single word: "Sarge?"

* * *

Ratchet took that as his cue. He quickly moved to where Sasha was sitting, and fell to one knee next to her. "Sasha?" he asked quietly. The cazar spun, wrapped her arms around him and began crying even harder. The lombax held her to him, gently rocking her back and forth. "It's okay," he kept muttering. "It's okay."

H22 stared at the two of them. (Not that there was much else he could do in his current situation.) "Sarge," he said in a low voice, as though fearful of disturbing Sasha. "Sarge, is that really you?"

"Yeah," Ratchet replied. "It's me." The lombax thought for a moment. "Do ya remember how I came t' yer birthday party?" he asked, hoping to prove his identity and keep H22 talking.

"You saved our cans that day..." H22 replied.

"And you gave me a present."

H22 grinned as much as his damaged servos would allow. "A warp pad."

Ratchet nodded. "You're right - they're great fer runnin' away..."

"Sarge," he said, and there was a note of joy in his voice. "It's great to see you!"

"You too," Ratchet replied absently, paying careful attention to the violently crying cazar he was gently rocking back and forth.

"But..." H22 continued hesitantly. "The vid? My orders? That means the President..."

Ratchet nodded. "Yeah."

"...oh frack..."

"That about covers it," Rich said.


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Plans Of Attack**

Clank, Rich and Nichole stepped forward and gathered around behind Sasha's chair so that H22 could see them. Sasha continued to cry, but her sobbing had lessened. Ratchet still held her close.

H22, having learned that Ratchet was not dead and that something was wrong with the orders he had been given was a lot more willing to talk than he had been just a few moments ago. "It all started just as I was completing my sentry shift on Veldin twelve days ago..."

"Hang on," Ratchet said, looking over to H22 and shaking his head. He turned his attention to Sasha. Loosening his hold on her, he leaned back slightly, adjusting his position so that he could look into her eyes. "Sasha?"

The cazar met his gaze. Her eyes were red from crying, her nose was very moist, and there were tear stains along the fur on her face. But she responded. "Yes?"

"Why don't I take you downstairs?" he offered. "You could get some rest..."

"No!" she replied firmly, pulling herself up to sit straight in the chair. Turning to again look at Ratchet, she continued. "I appreciate the offer, Ratchet. Thank you." Lifting her head and looking to Clank and the others, she added, "I need to hear this." Hanging her head, she added softly so that only Ratchet could hear, she added, "No matter how much it hurts."

Straightening up once more, she wiped her eyes and face with her gloved hand. Nichole stepped away for a moment, entered the nearest bathroom, and returned with a soft square of linen that had been soaked with cold water. She handed it to Sasha. The cazar wiped her face and eyes with the cloth briefly, mumbled "Thanks," then sat up once again. Swiveling to face H22, she nodded. "Go ahead," she said in a somewhat stronger voice. Ratchet stood, and took a place behind her chair, next to Clank.

H22 blinked his optics. "It all started about twelve days ago. I was just getting off my shift at the Planetary Defense Center on Veldin. I picked Veldin because it is one of the most unimportant populated planets in Solana. No offense, Sarge," he quickly added.

"None taken," Ratchet answered. "I used t' live there; I know what it's like..."

H22 grinned slightly, but that faded as he continued his story. "Anyway, I was going off duty when the patrol leader calls for me. I went into his office, and there were two members of the Elite Presidential Guard waiting for me. They confirmed my identity, and without any hesitation, I was in the black on a transport. No word on where we were going or what was happening. They wouldn't talk to me during the entire flight.

"We landed on some kind of station. I didn't recognize it at first, but while walking the halls, I was able to look through a window and realized that it was the Presidential Station. The warbots were joined by two others from their squad and they marched me up a grav ramp. I overheard the president talking with Ms. Phyronix about her plans to come here for the grand opening, and to discuss possible trade agreements.

"After she left, I was brought in front of the president himself! He asked if I heard what was said, but he didn't seem to care. He said that he had personally selected me to escort Ms. Phyronix on her mission.

"At first, I was thrilled. He dismissed his guards and then he explained that he had a mission for me as well. I didn't know what he wanted at first. Then he brought out a holovid projector...

"I was stunned. I could not believe it! Clank executing Sarge, and laughing about it. The president told me that the vid was taken from a surveillance drone that had been trailing Secret Agent Clank." H22 paused once again, studying the faces of the lombaxes and cazar. "I am not a vid fan, so I did not recognize the name. In any case, the president told me that Clank had murdered Ratchet, and that he had created some kind of duplicate to stand in his place, and that the duplicate was infiltrating the lombax government that his daughter was visiting."

The room was silent. Nichole was holding Rich's hand. Sasha sat with her mouth open in horror. Ratchet stood, staring at H22 in disbelief. Clank was shaking his head, his optics very dim.

"He told me that he had selected me," H22 continued, "because he knew that Sarge and I were friends. He told me that I should pick another ranger, someone that I knew and trusted. Then President Phyronix put his hand on my shoulder and said that he wanted my help in bringing Clank to justice.

"The president swore me to secrecy, and that I was not to tell anyone about this. Especially not you, Ms. Phyronix. He ordered me to bring Secret Agent Clank back to him - fully functional. He said that he knew the duplicate would get in the way." His optics sought out Ratchet. "He told me that I could deal with you as I saw fit. But he changed his mind, saying that he was nervous about your being involved in the lombax ruling council, and recommended that I terminate you."

H22's optics deactivated. "That's when I understood why he had chosen me. He knew that I would want revenge for your murder. He knew that I would welcome the opportunity to terminate your replica. Gladly!" H22 reactivated his optics. "And we almost did...

"I am the one that brought J19 into this. He had not met you, but he had heard all of our stories, and he idolized you." H22 sought out Ratchet's eyes once again. "I just wish he had really gotten the chance to know you.

"Anyway, we spent the next few days training, downloading assassination programming, learning the techniques. The President got us in touch with a Blarg arms dealer; he got us some specialized ammo that was guaranteed to vaporize whatever type of construct you were. He also obtained some isotopes that were deadly to most known organic species.

"After we got here, I broke away from Ms. Phyronix. Using the apartment code you so generously provided, I enlisted a cleaning drone in our plans, programming it to be an irritant to you until you attempted repair." H22 paused for a moment. "While I am glad you are still alive, Sarge, I am actually very surprised you survived that night. I had expected you to repair the drone immediately on your return."

"I almost did," Ratchet admitted. "But I was tired from helping Al set up."

H22 continued. "J19 was our failsafe. He staked out positions near the roboshop, and waited in an underground bunker until the official opening. He set up the warp pad network..."

Rich interrupted briefly. "Warp pads?"

Clank showed him the still image that Perigee had taken. "It is a specialized short range teleportation device."

"They're great for running away," H22 added. "When the opening came, I explained to Ms. Phyronix that J19 was malfunctioning and I accompanied her to the celebration. I was careful to stay between her and the bunker the entire time. When Sarge was shot, I felt such a wave of joy as I had never experienced before." His optics closed once more. In a very quiet voice, he added, "I have so many regrets about this damned mission.

"I watched as both the bunker and the firing locations were vaporized, and I knew that J19 was gone. It would be one more termination that Clank would pay for!" H22 looked sadly at the tiny robot. "Then I realized that my trap from the previous night had not sprung. I waited, monitoring open channels for anything abnormal. When word finally came, I waited for approximately five minutes before I acted.

"In hindsight, that was actually very fortunate. By the time I arrived at your apartment complex, the entire building had already been quarantined and sealed in a force field. I had originally planned on abducting Secret Agent Clank, knowing that the isotope would not hurt us, but would keep organic life at a safe distance."

H22 lowered his optics to the table. "Sarge, I am so sorry about Ms. Apogee." Ratchet's head bowed, and his ears and tail drooped even further. "I had programmed the drone to avoid her. I did not want her to get mixed up in this. It wasn't her fault that you were, well, 'replaced'. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."

Ratchet was torn. H22 had come very close to succeeding. If he hadn't taken the radiation drug ahead of time, they might both be dead. And he only took it at her insistence. "I know," was all Ratchet could say.

"The rest you know, I guess. I lied to Ms. Phyronix about J19 returning to Solana. I tried to keep her away from Sarge and get her to return home. And I hoped to get one more chance at fulfilling my mission.

"When you showed up tonight, I thought that the universe had given me a gift. I was so close... so close..." H22 sighed. "And then, everything went black. I don't know what you hit me with, but..."

"That was me," Sasha said. She wiped her face with the cloth once again, but it did not help. Her bloodshot eyes looked strangely vacant, and she spoke in a tired tone filled with despair. "I hit you with a tesla block."

"You did?" H22 said, cheered slightly by her words. "Really?" The cazar nodded. H22 grinned. "I'm so proud of you!"

* * *

Ratchet poured himself another mug of extra strong sludge from Nichole's dispenser. Glancing over to his friends, now seated on the couches near the fire pit, he called out, "Anyone else want one?"

Rich and Nichole both answered 'yes'. Sasha looked up from the fire that she had been staring at to give Clank a quizzical look. "What's sludge?" she asked in a raspy voice. She had not cried again since H22 told of his experiences with her father, but she was certainly not in the best of shape. The lombaxes had all moved to get comfortable and think about how to handle the situation. Sasha had turned H22's head (tethered to the office pod by the necessary power feeds) towards the grouping, and placed the audio generator and speech interpreter next to her chair. But she had remained silent throughout most of the discussions, lost in her own memories and misery.

Clank looked over and replied as Ratchet handed steaming mugs to Nichole and Rich, then went back to get another for himself. "It is a lombax hot beverage similar in flavor to coffee in Solana, but significantly more bitter and with a much higher viscosity. From my observations, it appears to have significant stimulant properties, and is likely addictive over time."

Sasha shook her head. "I could use the stimulant, but I'll pass, thanks."

"How about some purified spring water?" Nichole asked.

"That would be lovely, thanks."

"Ratchet," Rich called over. "They're in the door of the chiller."

Ratchet opened the chiller and grabbed one of the sealed flasks. But something unusual caught his eye: a bowl of small fruit, each only about a centicubit in diameter. The individual berries were composed of many small orange colored seed pods, barely a millicubit in diameter, clustered together into four even groupings around a common stalk. He closed the chiller, retrieved his mug of sludge and walked over to the group.

"Quarterberries?" he asked, handing the flask to Sasha and moving to sit next to Clank. "Where in Fastoon didja find quarterberries this time o' year?"

Rich glared at him. "You _don't_ wanna know..." he muttered.

Clank brought the lombaxes back into focus, a task he was getting rather accustomed to. "This is not the first time that President Phyronix has confused the Secret Agent Clank fiction with reality. It is, however, the first time that he has acted on his delusion."

"What's the big deal?" Ratchet answered. "Let 'm think I'm dead."

"It's not that simple, Ratchet," Rich explained. "H22's mission was to retrieve Clank. Your assassination was just a way to make it possible."

"Would President Phyronix send other killers?" Nichole asked. "I don't know much about him."

"I would not have thought him capable of this action previously," Clank replied. "But the fact that he has become this unstable is a risk not only to Ratchet and to myself, but to all of Solana as well."

"What if we made the plot public?" Rich offered.

"That would not work," H22 replied. It seemed strange, seeing his head resting on the desk, but hearing his voice from beneath Sasha's chair. "There were no witnesses when he gave me the assignment. He could simply deny it."

"We might have to put a moratorium on your dimension after all," Rich said grimly.

"Isn't that overkill?" Ratchet asked, shaking his head. Not only would such a moratorium cut off communication and travel between the two dimensions he called home, but it would isolate the lombaxes from many potential allies and trading partners. Now that he had finally found his people, Ratchet did not want to be forced into an absolute choice between them and the planets and friends he knew so well. "It was just me and Clank. It wasn't like he was going after the council or Reg."

Rich shook his head. "Unless we can find a better idea..."

Sasha interrupted, speaking out for the first time in this debate. Her eyes did not leave the fire. "How soon could you repair H22?"

"I dunno," Ratchet shrugged. "Maybe a day 'r two."

Nichole offered, "What if Nick and Reg help?"

The lombax thought about it. Nicholas and Reg Solstice were both extremely talented with robotics and mechanical systems. He was no slouch himself. The three of them working together...

"Maybe a few hours. Why?"

Sasha continued to stare into the flames. "I have an idea," she said, and her quiet voice was grim but steady. "But you have to promise me two things:

"Promise me you won't hurt my father..."

The lombaxes all nodded. "I don't wanna hurt anybody, Sasha," Ratchet answered.

"Good," she replied. Pulling her eyes from the flame, she met Ratchet's gaze.

"And promise me that you'll take me with you."


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Justice**

Ratchet stumbled yet again, hampered by the flux manacles that bound his wrists and ankles as he tried to keep up with the relentless pace. Behind him, the Galactic Ranger drove him on by touching him on the side with a low voltage tesla prod. Each time it made contact, the crackling current caused the lombax to grimace in pain, but he did not cry out or protest. Ratchet just climbed back to his feet and moved on.

The lombax was wearing a thin blaze orange coverall and magboots. His gloves and cap, with his manifestor and neural matrix, were conspicuously absent. Ratchet did, however, have his backpack straps on, and Clank was riding on his back, secured to the connecting bolt. The robot's added weight made Ratchet's journey up the grav ramps all the more difficult.

Finally, they reached the summit of the grav ramp. One of the members of the Elite Presidential Guard was waiting in front of the closed door. There was no sign of emotion on his face on seeing H22 and the lombax, nor was there any conversation. He merely stood in front of the closed door, blocking their entrance. There was a quick pulse of light from an antenna built into the guard's right shoulder, illuminating the lombax from tip to tuft. The weapon scan concluded uneventfully, but the guard still did not move. H22 glared at Clank riding on Ratchet's back, but did not speak.

After waiting for nearly five minutes, the guard simply stepped to the side of the door. Pressing a hidden actuator, the massive door opened leading into the presidential suite. H22 prodded Ratchet once again, and the group moved forward into the office.

Ratchet looked up at the black hole briefly before returning his gaze to Sasha's father. The cazar was alone in his office, seated behind his massive stone desk, studying the administrative documents that had been recently piled there. The door on the left was sealed, while the door on the right was open. H22 prodded the lombax forward yet again.

"Mr. President," H22 said, and there was a note of pride mixed with the fear in his trembling voice. "I have brought you Secret Agent Clank and the lombax Ratchet."

Phyronix looked up, and for a moment, he looked surprised as he stared at Ratchet in the prison garb. Placing the documents back on his desk, the president clasped his hands together on top of them. "I have to admit that I'm a bit surprised, H22," he began. Getting up and walking around the desk, the president crossed his arms and sat back against its edge. "While I knew that you were more than capable of carrying out your mission, I ..." The cazar stopped midsentence, glancing at the open door behind them.

Calling out to the guards, President Phyronix said, "Could you give us some privacy? I'll let you know when we're done here."

Clank, riding on Ratchet's back, had a clear view as the massive doors swung shut and sealed behind them. There was an audible hiss as the airtight interlocks sealed off the chamber. Similarly, the door to the right closed, but not before a diminutive figure dashed through them at the last moment, unnoticed. Ratchet tried not to watch as the figure quickly moved to the president's desk and hid either behind or underneath it.

Phyronix stood. "I knew you were capable, H22," he said, walking over to wear Ratchet stood in his restraints, examining the lombax up close. "But I really thought you'd terminate the replicant." Nodding to himself, the president continued his inspection and added quietly, "Impressive work. I wonder how he did it..."

H22 nodded, his head wobbling a little unsteady on the interconnecting bolts. "I almost did," the ranger replied. A bit of anger and venom crept into his tone. "But I thought you might want to do that yourself."

Phyronix didn't smile. Shaking his head slowly, he said in a somewhat disgusted voice, "Not really. It gives me no pleasure at all. It's not this creature's fault." Sighing deeply, a more menacing look crossed his face. "Come on out, Secret Agent Clank. It's time you faced justice for your crimes!"

Clank detached from connecting bolt and dropped lightly to the floor behind Ratchet. H22 immediately touched him with the tesla prod, sending a current through the robot's systems, knocking him to his knees.

"Easy, H22..." President Phyronix crooned. "We don't want to damage him."

Stepping to the side, the president gestured at the dim red illumination at the far end of the room. "I have something special planned for you, Agent Clank. Look up!"

Ratchet, Clank and H22 all reflexively looked up at his command. Above them, the supermassive black hole that was the core of the Solana galaxy spun in the silence of space, its accretion disk glowing throughout the visible spectrum in a host of colors and shades.

"Look well," the president said. "Look well at your new prison." All eyes fixed on the giant cazar.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Agent Clank. You've done far too many good things for this galaxy. But you must atone for your cold hearted murder of Jeeves. And I intend to give you the chance to do so. I've programmed the escape capsule to orbit just above the black hole's event horizon; its shields will hold long enough to get you into a stable position. But when the shields give out, time dilation will take effect, and you will be trapped like an insect in amber for all eternity. Plenty of time for you to think about what you've done."

The cazar stared at Ratchet, looking him over, studying his face. "I don't know how you created the Jeeves replica," he said in admiration, "but I have to assume that it's a threat to the lombaxes in Leonid, and to the people of Solana." Sighing heavily, the cazar shook his head, and then stood upright, gathering his strength and will. "I don't know if you feel anything for your creature, Agent Clank, but it must be destroyed," he finally said.

"H22, put Agent Clank into the escape pod behind my desk. Once he's inside, seal the imposter into the airlock." Turning to face Clank once more, Phyronix said, "This way, you'll at least be able to wave goodbye..."

There was a sound of glass breaking. A thin mist of blue-grey smoke began to curl from the area under the president's desk. The president turned his head, took a very deep breath and held it. He reached for a crystal on his left glove, but was stopped - H22's hand preventing the president from touching the comm link. Clank manifested an O2 mask as the shackled Ratchet dropped to his knees, allowing the robot to slip the mask into place.

Phyronix turned towards his desk and the airlock when he noticed the small figure waiting there. She too was wearing an O2 mask. Through the clear face plate, tears could be seen running down her face.

President Phyronix's eyes opened very wide for a moment, then closed. He drew himself up to his full height, pulled his wrist forcefully from the ranger's grip, and settled his arms at his sides. Standing proudly, the giant cazar opened his eyes. Facing the young woman in the O2 mask in front of him, the president spoke loud and clear, carefully enunciating his words to make certain that he was heard, "I love you, Sasha." He then deliberately took a deep breath of the blue-grey smoke, closed his eyes, and toppled to the floor. H22 caught him and eased him gently to the steel deck of the presidential office.

"I love you too, dad," Sasha said very quietly, tears still streaming down her face.

* * *

Sasha was sitting at her desk in the administrative suite just to the side of the office of the President of Solana. She was accessing a vidlink over the trans-dimensional communication device installed by the lombaxes in Leonid. Her face looked very tired, but the cazar was not about to let the stress that had been building within her for the last few days show. Especially not to the person at the other end of this link!

"How'r'y'doin'?" the lombax casually said, his bare feet propped on the desk in front of his own vidlink feed, his eyes focused not on the camera, but on his display screen.

"I'm okay, Ratchet," Sasha replied, carefully trying to conceal her emotions.

It didn't work. Ratchet pulled his feet away, sat bolt upright and moved closer to the video source. "That bad?" he asked quietly. His ears had dropped in concern, and his eyes showed the compassion he felt.

Sasha almost felt like laughing for the first time in days. Lombaxes were such bad liars!

"It's alright, Ratchet," she reassured him. "I'm the presidential assistant now, so everything goes through my office."

Ratchet's ears drooped even further. "That sounds like a lotta work." His voice trailed off.

"It is," she acknowledged. "But this way, dad thinks he's still running things."

Ratchet looked a little confused. "Is that important?"

"For a cazar, yes," she explained. "I don't know how long we can keep this up, but at least he's okay. For now."

The lombax paused, and then asked a very sensitive question. "Does he remember?"

Sasha's look twisted into one of concentration. "I'm not sure, Ratchet," she finally answered. "If he does, he's not showing it."

"The gas'll put you t' sleep, but it kinda messes with your memory too." Ratchet thought back. "When Petrov used it on me... I think I remember most of it, but the last few minutes 'r kinda foggy."

"I hope so," she said quietly, thinking back to the look on her father's face when he realized who had gassed him. That same look had invaded her dreams every time she tried to sleep since.

Ratchet nodded sadly. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Prime Minister Solstice has already sent help," Sasha answered. "Spiff's getting all the legal stuff cut over to the new process. He's a natural at this kind of thing." She paused for a moment and then smiled a somewhat sad and forced grin. "Are you sure he's not part cazar?" she joked weakly.

Ratchet's ears perked slightly. If she could joke, even if it was just about Spiff, she was going to be okay.

"Not that I know of," he answered. "But ya never know..." The lombax took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I know your father's on cerebral compensators. Have they helped?"

"A little, I think," Sasha admitted. "He's still fixated on you and Clank, but as long as we keep his mind off it, he can function. I think he's starting to question himself too." She drew a deep breath. "We found a copy of 'License To Terminate' in dad's emergency pod. It looks like he'd been watching that scene over and over."

Ratchet nodded. President Phyronix was certainly certifiable. Even during the Biobliterator War, the president seemed... odd, confusing him with 'Jeeves', the role he played in the vid series. It would be a long time until he felt comfortable returning to Solana under the circumstances. Even though Al could now move freely between his roboshop branches, everyone else that travelled to and from Solana was warned in advance about Ratchet and Clank's awkward situation; if only to avoid any possible misunderstandings. "How long can you keep this up?" Ratchet asked, worry for the cazar plainly written across his features.

Sasha smiled, a little more naturally this time. "As long as I have to, Ratchet. Reg said that he's got the Institute looking into dad's case. He's also contacting your allies to see what they can do."

Ratchet thought back to what Reg had told him. It was something that the Saphrian Ambassador had said, to contact him after it was over. Did the Saphrian _know_ that this was going to happen all along? And if so, how?

Ratchet smiled. "If he's callin' who I think he's callin', yer father'll be in good hands."

"How's Talwyn?" Sasha asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Nichole says she'll be fine," Ratchet replied, relief visible in his eyes and his ears perking slightly. "She'll be wakin' her up sometime this afternoon. She said she'd call me, so I could be there..."

"Of course," Sasha said, nodding slightly. "But don't fill her in all at once. She might need some time to take it all in."

"Yeah," Ratchet said. "Nichole warned me about that. And about Talwyn's hair. She's gonna be pissed!" Talwyn's hair had fallen out from the extreme radiation poisoning, but was starting to show signs of growing back.

Sasha actually laughed at that, a quick barking burst. It only lasted for a moment, but it felt good. The cazar shook her head. "You always know the right thing to say..."

The lombax smiled widely. "I try," he replied, buffing his gloved hand against the casual shirt he was wearing. He leaned back and put his feet back up on the desk, and within the vidlink shot. But then he sat upright suddenly again. "Ratchet here... One second, Sasha... Right. Good! I'll be right there..." Ratchet stood, the camera following his motions, locked in on his face. Relief was plainly visible, and his ears were perking. "Sasha, that was Nichole. She's getting ready t' wake up Talwyn."

"Go ahead," Sasha replied. "We can talk later."

"You know where t' find me," Ratchet said, reaching for the call terminate button.

Before the lombax drop the link, Sasha added one final comment. "Yeah," she said, with a very slight chuckle. "But at least change your apartment combination!"

Ratchet laughed. "I will. Thanks!"

There was a click as the transD link disconnected.

* * *

"Mr. President?" Sasha asked, peeking into the formal office of the President of the Solana Galaxy.

The huge cazar at the desk lowered the paperwork he was reading and turned towards his daughter. "Yes, Sasha?" he asked.

"I've finished with the daily reports, adjusted your calendar, and confirmed all of your appointments. You should have a few hours to yourself today." Sasha forced a smile, trying to make it look as natural as possible.

"That's great, Sasha!" he replied. "You should take some time off too. You look exhausted."

"I will, Mr. President," she said, studying his cheerful face. Like all cazars, her father loved working in public service. It was good to see him happy.

"Then go home," he said. "My calendar's clear, and I'm just going to do a little reading. Get some rest."

"Thank you," she replied. "If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

"I will Sasha. Thanks," the president said.

Sasha moved to leave the familiar office, but turned as she reached the door. "I love you, dad," she said happily.

"I love you too, Sasha."


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Lunch**

President Phyronix watched as his daughter left for the day. She was running herself ragged, trying to keep up with the duties of the office, he thought. The last thing she needed was something else to worry about.

The old cazar watched the door to the administrative wing close, and then glanced at the door to his private apartment. Shaking his head, he turned back to his desk and looked at the reports. Energy production, interstellar bickering, promotions and service anniversaries - not a single important thing in the entire pile. Sure it was work, but it was just busywork that any clerk could do. What's the point?

He thought back to when their lives changed so drastically. It was only days, but it seemed so long ago that she had knocked him out and had taken over the presidency in all but name. And the latest rumor in the halls outside his office was that she was meeting with Centauri from Gadgetron on a top secret matter.

As much as he wanted to blame the lombaxes and Clank for this, he knew that the only person he could really blame was himself. He knew that it was wrong right from the start: ordering an assassination against the lombax minister and the robot. He would never have done that in the old days. Clank would regret what he had done someday, and whatever construct he associated with was certainly the most lombax-like creature he had ever met. Maybe it _was_ true - maybe it all _was_ just a misunderstanding. He didn't know anymore; it was so confusing. But, looking down at the reports on his desk, it didn't matter anyway.

The cazar let his eyes drift to the dimly illuminated grav ramp behind him. He never looked there when his daughter was around. The escape pod had been returned to its normal programming of course, and would take its occupant to the nearest safe haven in an emergency. But it was not the pod that he was thinking about; it was the airlock. Sometimes, he could not stop thinking about it. Sasha looked so exhausted. Maybe it would be better for everyone if he...

There was a knock on the door frame that led to his private apartment, breaking his thoughts. "Yes?" he called.

A chef appeared with a hovering table set with a series of dishes. "Are you ready for lunch, Mr. President?"

The cazar chuckled bitterly to himself at the title. 'Mister President' indeed... "Sure," he said cheerfully, carefully hiding his real feelings. "Thanks."

The cook guided the portable hovertable into the office and set it just to the side of the president's desk. Phyronix turned to look at both the table and the chef. The hovering platform was covered in white linen, with various drinking vessels and beverages for him to choose from. There was the standard formal place setting, along with a large soup tureen. A small bunch of blooms was tastefully arranged in a metal vase in the corner, with a single crimson spike (with a slightly dulled tip) in the very center.

The chef was wearing a typical fur containment suit composed of thin gauze that loosely covered the kitchen worker from head to foot. The gauze itself was pristine white, but the chef's fur underneath gave the uniform a slightly blue-ish tint. He did not have a tail visible, but suits like these were designed to keep the fur of the wearer inside and away from the food they were preparing, so that was not surprising. The cazar noted what looked like a bulge running down the back of one of the chef's legs under the suit, so he probably did have some kind of tail. The head covering seemed overly large, as though there were large ears...

The president froze. "You're one of _them_, aren't you?" he asked in a very quiet voice.

"One of what, sir?" the chef answered cheerfully.

The president sighed. "A lombax..."

The chef nodded. "Yes, Mr. President."

The cazar shifted uncomfortably. Ever since that damn holovid, or was it a surveillance... He shook his head slightly, trying to focus. Returning his gaze to the waiting chef, he guard faltered for an instant and he said, "Please don't call me that."

Phyronix could not see the lombax's eyes, yet he felt them anyway, as though they were somehow peering into his very soul.

"They don't have to do this, you know," he said, staring at the headgear where he knew the chef's eyes would be. "I know what happened. I'm not the president anymore." His gaze dropped to the table in front of him, and the empty soup plate uppermost in the place setting. "Just call me Boris."

"Okay, Boris," the chef said easily, completely comfortable even in the tense situation. Tilting his head slightly, he asked in a probing voice. "Why are you so depressed?"

"I'm not..." the cazar started to reply, heat in his voice. But he just couldn't... He was just too tired to care... And there was something about those eyes, even though he couldn't see them... "It's..." Boris Phyronix began, halting at times as his emotions stirred. "It's... Cazars are born to serve. I served the people of this galaxy for nearly four decades, sacrificed... I lost my wife early on, and my work became everything. And my daughter, of course. But now..." He turned to look at the desk, picked up a document at random (a TPS report), and threw it back down again. "Now I'm obsolete," he whispered.

"Give it some time - it'll work out," the chef said, compassion evident in his voice, even if his features were hidden by his uniform.

The cazar lifted his head to scoff at the glib reply, but his response died on his lips. "Maybe," was all he could say.

"Why don't you try the soup," the chef said, preparing the tureen. "It's a very old recipe. Gallus peep soup and pasta dumplings..."

It looked almost as though the cazar had been struck with a tesla block. His fur bristled slightly, his eyes opened wide and he jaw dropped. But he regained his composure almost immediately. "Gallus peep...?" he responded, his carefully casual tone trembling with the inner turmoil of stirred memories. "My mom used t' make that for me all the time when I was a cub. You can't even find the ingredients anymore..."

Boris's words fell away as he looked at the head of the chef. Was it his imagination, or could he _feel_ the lombax smiling at him?

The chef ladled out a large serving from the tureen, making sure to get plenty of gallus meat, and a generous quantity of dumplings. "Try it while it's still hot," he said.

The cazar did not need the invitation. All of his previous thoughts forgotten, he turned his attention to the soup. "It smells just like..." He took a taste.

Conversation halted for the next ten minutes as Boris Phyronix enjoyed the soup that had been presented to him. He did not stop until the tureen was empty.

When he was finally satisfied, the cazar looked up in gratitude to the chef. "That was the best thing I've had in a long time," he complimented. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the chef answered, clearing the dishes away. Pausing briefly to look at the president, the chef added, "Sometimes a good meal can bring back a lot of happy memories." He gathered up all of the dishes and serving vessels and prepared to leave. Turning back, he added, "By the way, I'll be your personal chef for a few weeks, if that's okay with you."

Boris nodded. "That'd be great. Thanks!" He did feel a little better. It wasn't just the soup, though. There was something about this chef, this _lombax_ of all things...

"I'm sorry," the former President of the Solana Galaxy said, calling after the departing lombax as shyly as though he was just applying for his first internship as an administrative clerk. "I didn't catch your name."

Boris once again felt as though the chef was smiling, even though he could not see anything except a haze of blue through the gauzelike cloth. "Just call me Nathaniel..."

[end.]


End file.
